Allegro
by chiisai-kitty
Summary: Sookie is a professional dancer; Eric is an arrogant actor. Ten couples compete. This is Dancing With The Stars, SVM edition. AH/AU
1. Selections

**Dislaimer: I do not own any of the SVM characters, nor Dancing With The Stars. I'm just borrowing the characters, sticking them in sequins, and using DWTS's concept.**

**A/N: Yeah, I'm starting another story. I've actually been way into the dancing shows this season, so of course I was prompted with a 'what if' scenario. Hence the birth of this little ditty. I would like to point out that this is the first story that I actually have a solid storyline already drafted for. Holy crap, I know. It's also the first fic I have a little notebook full of information for. AND it's my first published AH story (I say published because I've already started writing the art fic). So in true me-form, I'm here with another one word title.**

**Enjoy 'Allegro'!**

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**Chapter One- Selections**

SPOV

I rounded the corner, damn near sprinting down the hallway. I was already late for the cast meeting, and I figured that the less late I was, the better. Besides, I was really anxious about the name drawing today. This would be my first season on the show and I couldn't have been more excited about it. I managed to slow down to a brisk walk as I approached the door, otherwise I probably would have skidded right past it. Double checking that I had the right room, I paused, running my hand over the little placard on the door. _Dancing With The Stars__: Green Room_, it read. I wrangled in my nerves and opened the door.

"Sookie, there you are," called Sam Merlotte, one of the show's producers. He was also a good friend of mine, which helped me snag this job when I graduated from Julliard. I smiled sheepishly, looking around the room, a little bit pleased to notice that I wasn't the last person to arrive. One of the other girls, Sophie-Anne Leclerq, was not present.

I wasn't the best of friends with the rest of the cast of professional dancers or anything yet, we'd only had some preliminary get-togethers, going over dancing styles, technique, and the like. They were really more like classes, but from them I'd already gathered that Sophie-Anne was the queen bee around here. Or at least she thought that she was. I actually pitied whatever celeb got paired with her.

The station had already given up the list of star dancers, announcing through shows like _Access Hollywood _and _Entertainment Tonight_, so at least we had some sort of idea of the selection. That stuff was kept on lockdown until the reveal, even from us. It seemed to be a fairly even distribution, we had actors, athletes, and singers, just to name a few. Someone had even gotten my brother, Jason, to compete. Not that he shied away from competition, being the quarterback for the Saints and all, but I still never expected him to sign up for a _dance_ competition.

Sophie-Anne finally decided to show up, and Sam pulled out a bowl filled with slips of paper. Even though she was the last person to arrive, Sophie-Anne dashed up to draw first. I knew she was jonesin' to be paired with Hollywood heartthrob, Eric Northman. Sure, he was extremely good looking, but the word was that he was just horrible to work with. So as open as I was to being paired with any of the stars, I honestly hoped it wasn't him…or my brother. That would just be whole piles of awkwardness.

Just imagine Sophie-Anne's disdain when the slip of paper that she drew bore the name of one Bill Compton, a Bill Gates-esque IT mogul famous for developing some sort of people-finding search engine. In short, the opposite of Mr. Northman, but not a horrible looking guy from what I'd seen of him on the news. Sophie-Anne crumpled her little slip of paper, grabbed a practice schedule from Sam, and stormed out of the room. All eyes trained on the door that she slammed upon her exit.

Shifting focus back to the task at hand, Sam called for the next person to draw. A curvy redhead stood up. I knew that her name was Dahlia Jones. She had taught the rest of us a class on the Charleston just last week, which was her strongest dance. Dahlia stuck her hand into the bowl, extracting a slip of paper. She smiled as she read it, and Sam looked at her expectantly.

"Jason Stackhouse," she admitted, reclaiming her spot on the couch with two other dancers. I felt instant relief now that I had no chance of being paired with my brother. My next thought was that Jason actually stood a chance with Dahlia as a partner, as she was a really strong dancer. She sent a smile my way as the next person stood up; Dahlia was a sweet girl.

Next up was one of Dahlia's couch mates, Lafayette Reynolds, one of the most awesomely flamboyant men I had ever met. He wore more makeup than the women both on and off-stage, and he was wildly popular with the fans. Upon reading his paper, Lafayette wrinkled his nose.

"Pamela Ravenscroft," he pronounced the name with distaste, which was saying something for usually-upbeat Lafayette. It was understandable. If Eric Northman was the king of impossibility in Hollywood, then Pamela was the queen. She had sent more assistants and publicists running for the hills than Eric had lovers. Which was a lot. Seemed like every time that man was on television it was with a different woman. I know that I should have been a good Christian and at least meet them before passing judgments that I based off of what I read in the tabloids and saw on E!, but their reputations really proceeded them.

Lafayette rolled his electric-blue painted eyes and plopped back down next to Dahlia. I swore I saw all of the other male dancers breathe a visible sigh of relief knowing that they couldn't be paired with Pamela.

"Well, now that that bullet's been dodged," noted Claude Crane, hopping up from the chair he'd been occupying by the door. Claude had model good looks, which was all fine and dandy barring the fact that he played for the same team as Lafayette. Unlike Lafayette however, Claude was kind of a pompous jackass. Of course he was a good dancer (he wouldn't be on the show if he wasn't), but he certainly didn't have to walk around with an ego the size of the state of Texas.

He was another example of an instance where I felt bad for the celebrity rather than the dancer. He tentatively reached into the bowl as if it was going to snap shut on his hand, destroying his perfect manicure in the process. After the bowl didn't bite him (_huge_ shocker there…), he read his strip of paper aloud.

"Hadley Delahoussaye." A match made in heaven, I'd say. The guy with the supermodel looks was paired with the actual supermodel. I only hoped that there were enough mirrors in their practice room. He took his practice sheet and sat back in his seat away from the group, naturally.

The last occupant of the big couch was the next one to draw. Alcide Herveaux was not an unattractive man, in fact he had asked me out a couple of times towards the beginning of our season. And it's not that I wasn't attracted to him, because I'm sure I might be if I let myself. But that was just it, I refused to have a relationship with any of my coworkers. I was here to do a job, and hopefully win, and I told him as much. I wasn't going to let anything get in my way, especially not a guy.

Alcide ended up selecting Maria-Star Cooper, a world-renown photographer. She'd taking wildly famous pictures of just about anything: the President, actors, rock stars, professional athletes, dignitaries…the list went on. You couldn't flip open an issue of basically any magazine without seeing something that she had shot. Everyone in the room could tell that Alcide was ambivalent (word of the day) on having Maria-Star as a partner. I personally didn't see a problem with it, she was a good person and a philanthropist. And from what I'd seen the show's promotional work, she wasn't bad looking either. Whatever. Alcide was just being Alcide, I guess.

The last two guys made quick about selecting their partners. Hoyt Fortenberry and JB duRone specialized in the Two Step and seemed to be just two country boys (with roots not unlike mine and Jason's) who just happened to be blessed with rhythm (this part was more like me, and less like Jason). They were nice guys, always offering to pick up food or run errands for the ladies if needed. Both guys seemed pleased with their choices, Hoyt picked Jessica, front woman for an awesome rock band (and the celeb I was most anxious to meet), while JB picked Tara Thornton, fashion designer. Tara had actually designed ten ballroom dresses upon the announcement of her participation in the show. This was something else I was looking forward to. Hoyt and JB took their schedules and sat back down on the smaller couch.

Despite the fact that the dancers weren't one big, happy family yet (or ever), there we're two girls that I had quickly become friends with during the practice sessions. Amelia Broadway, a petite brunette, had been a senior at Julliard when I was a junior. She transferred from some fancy French academy (her dad was _loaded_), and while she was a classically-trained ballerina, she found her calling with the Viennese Waltz and hopped on the professional circuit after graduation. A couple of championships later she was recruited for the show.

What Amelia did for competition Waltz, Cicita Montoya did for Latin ballroom. Being so curvy and all, I immediately took to her classes on Latin dance basics. Cicita had super long black hair and was as sweet as pie, just like Amelia. After one of Cicita's classes on Samba, the three of us went out for lunch. We had been friends ever since.

Having both been on the professional circuit, Cicita and Amelia were already really close. They had participated in the same competitions, but never competing against each other. Until now. The two of them approached the bowl at the same time, reaching in simultaneously (it was a big bowl).

Amelia pulled her hand out first. "Tray Dawson," she practically squealed. Amelia was nothing if not enthusiastic. Which was justifiable, considering Tray Dawson was easily the most interesting of all of the celebrities. Tray had made his fortune building custom motorcycles. He achieved celebrity status when his work had landed him a television show. Now he was working on some kind of clothing line styled after some of his airbrushing work. When he agreed to join the competition, I'm pretty sure all of America was shocked.

Cicita pulled out her slip of paper shortly after Amelia. "John Quinn," she read. John Quinn, or Quinn as he went by, was a professional stuntman. When he wasn't driving cars in chase scenes, he worked as a stunt double for Vin Diesel (for the really dangerous shit, which was saying something, considering it's Vin Diesel). He was another shock to America for joining the competition.

I was so caught up in watching everyone else make their selections, I had lost track of who was left. While I was on my way to the bowl, I was mentally running a process of elimination. If I had bothered to look around the room, I might have noticed the looks the rest of the cast were giving me, and I might have arrived at a conclusion soon. When I grabbed my slip of paper (which was a formality, really), I'd completed that process. I didn't even need to read it.

Well, hell.

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**Well there that is. I pretty much said everything I needed to say for now at the top. Let me know what you think. Oh, and everything that has been said and will be said in future chapters about the inner workings of the show are entirely speculations according to me, based on some behind-the-scenes stuff I've seen on the actual **_**Dancing…**_** program and from my experiences putting together a dance show. Just throwing that out there in case anyone is wondering.**

**-Sydney**


	2. Practice

**Allegro.**

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**A/N: Hey guys. Once again I am blown away with your response to my writing. I want to say a big giant thanks to everyone who alerted/reviewed/favorited. I almost fell off of my bed when I found 25 emails in my inbox the morning after I posted chapter one. I only wanted to address one thing before I got cracking on chapter two: a couple of people in their reviews mentioned that they either had never seen DWTS or don't watch it, but that they get the gist. This is perfectly ok. I'm going to be explaining every aspect of the show from Sookie's (and eventually Eric's) perspective. First and foremost this is a Eric/Sookie story, not a DWTS one.**

**Now that that's out of the way, Enjoy!**

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**Chapter Two- Practice**

SPOV

I made up my mind. If I had to sit here for five more minutes, waiting on _him_, I was just going to leave. I'd already been waiting for half an hour. What the hell was taking him so long? It's not like this practice hasn't been scheduled for weeks or anything. Hell, they even set up the practices to work around _their_ schedules. _If he doesn't show, I'm just going to go class without him_.

Today was the first day of our two-week 'Dance Camp', where we'd go over the different styles, basic warm-ups…basically just what to expect during the season. We'd also get to work on our first dance of the season. It should have been exciting. We should be going to get Eric shoes or warming up.

We should be doing something other than me sitting here waiting on Eric freaking Northman.

I was sitting at the stereo, looking through the CD collection, when I heard the door open. Jumping up, I was ready to jump all over Eric's case for being so late. But it wasn't Eric; it was Claudine, the show's bubbly host, complete with camera crew. _Damn._ I guess they wanted to shoot some footage of Eric and I bonding. _Like that's ever going to happen_.

"All alone, Sookie?" _Well, duh. I'm clearly the only person in this room_, I thought. All this waiting was causing me to have some major pent up aggression. Aggression that should be directed at Eric (if he ever shows), and not at Claudine.

"Yeah. I have no clue where Eric is," I stated simply.

"Did you try calling him?"

"Well, I would have, but my practice sheet didn't list any numbers."

"Oh. Well I'll see if I can go find you one." Claudine turned on her heel and lead the cameras out of the studio. And now Eric's absence was causing me to lose exposure on the show, and the damn thing hadn't even started yet! I was just about to grab my bag and head to the big studio when the door opened again.

"_Please_ tell me you found me a number," I called out to the cracked door, exasperated.

"Uh, a number for what?" came a voice. A voice that was not Claudine's. The door opened completely to reveal the bane of my existence.

"A number for you, since you didn't feel that it was pertinent to show up on time, much less write down your damn phone number!" Boy, was I mad.

"I'm here now, aren't I?"

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah. But you're," I checked my watch, "almost forty minutes late!"

"Well, now I'm here, so let's get started or whatever," he replied, trying to change the subject. No 'I'm sorry', no nothing. I huffed and stomped out of the room, throwing a bag at Eric in the process.

I continued stomping down the hallway until Eric spoke again. At least he had the good sense to follow me. "What's this?"

Remember the shoe selecting mentioned earlier? _I _got them for him and they were in the bag. "Your shoes. It's what we were supposed to before class today. And a towel and some water." I wheeled around on him. "I got it all for you because that's what a considerate partner does. A considerate partner does not show up _extremely_ late and then not give two shits about it!" I turned back around and resumed storming off the big studio, not giving him a chance to respond.

---

EPOV

Fucking Pam. Convincing me to do this damn reality dancing bullshit show. After she committed to doing the show, she approached me to join her. She told me it was for charity or some shit like that. But, in fact, it wasn't for charity. It was for a shiny trophy with a fucking disco ball on top, of all things. And now today I was supposed to start some stupid dancing boot camp thing. Meet with my partner, and all that.

That brings me to my partner. All I have is a name, Sookie Stackhouse, and the knowledge that she's a Julliard graduate. But my experience with these types of things (which is _not_ saying I had ever watched these types of shows) was that the girls weren't dogs. So that was something to look forward to. _I guess_.

I knew that I was supposed to have shown up at noon, and that it was now almost a quarter to one, but I didn't really think anything of it. Sookie (and what kind of a name was that?) was probably stretching or practicing, or whatever it was those dancer girls do.

Passing a tall brunette with a camera crew on my way down the hall, I had a stray thought: _this show could be great publicity for my career_. I mean, I already knew that I would be garnering the show great ratings since practically every woman in America would be tuning in to see me dance, but maybe I could get some roles or something out of the deal. Be the next Swayze or Travolta. I thought about it for a moment longer before laughing it off and continuing down the hallway.

I found the room I was looking for and opened the door…only to find an angry blonde on the other side. My first thought was that she had a really great rack, which was only covered by a little pink workout tank top. My second thought was that she must be Sookie. Then she said something about numbers before yelling at me. I said something about being here now, to which she responded that I was late. No kidding. I tried to get the ball rolling, but that only got her more pissed. She left the room, throwing something at me. It was a duffel bag.

I followed her out of the room, and the view was even better from behind. I was correct in my assumptions about dancers. I asked Sookie what was in the bag and she jumped all over my shit again, calling me a bad partner. And sure, I really didn't give two shits. But I also didn't want this gorgeous creature mad at me. At least not in a situation that wasn't going to lead directly to some angry sex. But damn it if she didn't look hot that pissed off.

_This should be interesting_.

---

SPOV

I entered the studio, slamming my bag down next to the others'. I knew that it probably wasn't good for my shoes, but I was still pissed at Eric and his nonchalant attitude. I pulled out my shoes, which were okay, and strapped them on. I did a couple of steps to get comfortable and then looked up. Everyone else was staring at me.

"What?" I asked, as if I didn't already know.

"Where's Eric?" Sophie-Anne whined.

"Taking his sweet freaking time to get here," I spat at her, moving to the other side of the room. Cicita, Amelia, John, and Tray were stretching in the corner.

"Hey guys," I greeted Amelia and Cicita. "Hi, I'm Sookie," I introduced, turning to the two guys and forcing a smile. We shook hands and I sat, cross-legged, across from the four of them.

"So, morning didn't go well, I take it?" Amelia asked.

"Of course not. Hollywood didn't show up until five minutes ago."

"Seriously? Did he say why, or anything?" questioned Cicita.

"Pff, no. Didn't apologize either. Just made it seemed like it all revolved around him," I responded. "Ass," I muttered as a afterthought.

As if that was the magic word, Eric strolled through the door, his eyes searching me out. Considering I was the only one sitting by myself, it shouldn't have been to hard for him. I thought Sophie-Anne was going to launch herself at him, but she refrained. Eric continued his stroll over to where I was sitting.

He sat down next to me and introduced himself to my friends and their partners. I half expected him to say something like, "Hello underlings. I am Eric Northman, worship me," but he just stuck with, "I'm Eric."

We didn't have time to start fighting again, because out instructors entered the room shortly after Eric sat down.

Our instructors were a young woman named Holly and an older lady that went by the name of Octavia. Between the two of them, they had all of the ballroom styles covered. They functioned as the lead choreographers for the show as well. We professionals were allowed a little creative freedom when we learned the dances, I was told, but for the most part it was all them. It avoided unfair advantages and all that. Which was fine with me; I was never one for choreographing routines.

With Octavia and Holly were two male dancers, who were introduced as Derek and Maks (pronounced like Max). They were part of the choreography team as well. Holly stepped forward to address the crowd. "Hey everyone! Welcome to this season's dance camp! Could everyone spread out and stand with their partner?"

Man, she was a perky one. We followed her instructions and I practically dragged a reluctant Eric to a spot in the front. I figured that if he wasn't gung ho about showing up on time or listening to me, then he was certainly going to get the most out of this class.

They started the class off with some breathing and stretching exercises, and that was when I noticed that Eric had put his dancing shoes on. I took that as a little sign of some form of commitment. After stretching, Derek lead the class in doing some basic warm-ups, including some plies and isolation routines.

I used this portion of the class to steal a look at my brother, who, while completing the warm-ups, was trying his damnedest to impress Dahlia. I caught her attention in the process, offering her a smile and a shrug. She giggled a little before turning her attention back to the Derek, who started giving more instruction.

"That was great, guys. Now, turn and face your partner. We're going to do some partner combinations just to get you guys comfortable with each other." He turned to Holly; Maks partnered Octavia. Both pairs assumed a simple partner stance-- girl's right/ guy's left hands clasped with elbows out, girl's left hand on guy's shoulder with guy's right on girl's back. All of the couples imitated this stance.

When I turned to Eric, he had a cocky grin plastered on his face. I narrowed my eyes at him and took his hand in mine. He slid his hand around my back, bringing it to rest on the small of my back. It was a little lower than the stance called for, but I still didn't want to talk to him. So I let it slide.

The two pairs of instructors led us through a combination that incorporated a few different styles of ballroom, including Tango, Foxtrot, Salsa, and even a little bit of Swing. It was fun and I was surprised to learn that Eric actually possessed some rhythm. I had a chance to look around the room a couple of times and I noticed that everyone seemed to be working really well together. I only wondered if it was as much of an outward façade as the show Eric and I were putting on.

---

After class, Eric had tactfully moved away from me to talk to Pamela. As I was looking through my bag for my water bottle, Cicita approached me.

"Hey girl. A bunch of us are going out for dinner tonight after we draw first dances, wanna join?" she asked before taking a drink from her own bottle.

"Sure thing. I'll, uh, ask Eric I guess." I'm sure that she could tell from the tone of my voice that I was less than thrilled at the prospect.

Cicita gave me a small smile. "I know you probably don't want to hear it, but I think that you should give him a chance. Do it for the competition, because there is no way that you'll be in it long if you guys can't get along. Well, I'll see you at the drawing."

"I'll at least try, kay? Yeah, I'll see you there." She turned and left the studio with Quinn (he told me that that's what people usually call him). Leave it to Cicita to tell it like it is. She was right though. I did need to make a conscious effort, even if Eric wasn't going to.

I decided to start with inviting him to the group dinner. Walking over to where he was standing, I noticed that Hadley had joined their little powwow. I had to admit that it felt a little intimidating approaching all of those pretty people. I adjusted my big-girl panties, metaphorically speaking, and tapped Eric on the shoulder.

He swiveled to face me and his little group dissipated. He had an unusual look on his face; if I didn't know any better, I'd say that it was an interested look. I hadn't even said anything yet, so I dismissed it. "Uh, I was just wondering if you wanted to go to dinner tonight."

"Are you asking me out, little Sookie?" _Wait. What? And who's he calling 'little'?_ Well he was probably over a foot taller than me, but I didn't think that's what he meant.

"Uh, no, I wasn't. I wanted to invite you to a group dinner after the first dance drawing. Which is in about a half an hour or so, by the way. So I'll be in the lounge if you want to talk or hang out, or something." _Wait again. Why was I asking him to hang out in the lounge? Why would I care? Oh, this is me trying, that's right._

I was met with silence, so I turned around and left the studio.

Fuck trying, this man was insufferable.

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**So there's a little taste of my 'dance boot camp'. I'd imagine something similar to this occurs on the actual show, since most of the time the celebs have never danced a step in their lives. Oh, and I also wanted to mention that while I am a dancer, I have no ballroom experience past doing some swing. I'm a contemporary and jazz dancer. I do know a lot about choreography though, and I am doing research on ballroom, so if I make any mistakes, it's not intentional. Thanks and let me know what you think. This story is going really well writing-wise, so chapter three should be out soon.**

**Coming up next: Synopsis of boot camp. First round of the competition. I already have everything picked out for the first dance, and I am EXCITED.**

**-Sydney**


	3. I Don't Know If I Should Stay

**Allegro.**

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_**A/N: Hola! I am just floored with the response to this story. Before I get started, I wanted to give a special shout-out to evenflo78 for leaving the cutest review ever:**_

_One, Two...cha cha cha... I like the story so fa fa fa... *giggles*_

**So other than that, I don't have too much else to say, just that Derek and Maksim (Maks for short) are my two favorite male pros on the show, in case anyone was wondering where I pulled them from. Also, I'm super excited for this chapter. We've got some plot development, some more Eric/Sookie drama (naturally), and of course, dancing! I've decided that each chapter is pretty much going to follow the form of rehearsals and such for the week's dance, prep for the show, then the actual performance of the dance. A week's time, for anyone unfamiliar with the format. I'm also gonna throw some other things in, but you'll just have to wait for those! Then, every chapter except this one is going to start out with the 'results show' from the previous chapter's performance. Builds suspense and all of that, lol. Also, each chapter title is going to be the song that Sookie and Eric will be dancing to, so the style of dance won't be revealed from the get-go.**

**Enjoy!**

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**Chapter Three- I Don't Know If I Should Stay**

SPOV

I can't say that I was shocked that Eric neither met me in the lounge or joined the group for dinner. I also can't say that I was shocked that I wasn't the only one flying solo at dinner. Apparently Queen Sophie-Anne hadn't deemed our little outing to Chili's worthy of her presence. Well, maybe that's not _exactly_ how Bill put it, but that's the message I perceived.

So, at said Chili's, Bill and I became temporary partners. He was actually a pretty charming guy, considering I half-expected him to be all computer nerdy. I asked him how he liked working with Sophie-Anne, but all he'd offer was that she was "eccentric". Well, hell, we all already knew that.

Dinner was great, I don't think I stopped laughing for a minute. Quinn and Jessica were absolutely hilarious. I could feel the group bonding starting to happen. I was just pretty pissed that my partner wanted no part in it.

The dance style drawing went well also, and I couldn't wait to inform Eric of our selection. Maybe that was me being a little bit sadistic.

---

EPOV

I watched Sookie Stackhouse storm out of a room for the second time that day. Because of me. I didn't think I'd ever tire of watching her get pissed at me. I got a little hard just thinking about it.

So I didn't meet her in the lounge and join her and the rest of the group at Chili's that night. It didn't mean that I didn't want to. I wanted anything that involved seeing more of Sookie. It's just that I had more pressing matters to attend to that night, like annihilating a tube of Icy Hot on my back and soaking my feet. I wasn't out of shape, in fact, I was very much in shape, but I was quickly learning that ballroom dancing felt like running five marathons simultaneously. It was just a whole different kind of workout that my body just wasn't prepared for. So rather than risk walking around looking like a geriatric senior citizen all night, I went home. I didn't even stay for the dance style drawing.

I knew that Sookie was going to be extra pissed at me for our first official practice for the season premiere today. Excellent. It might be a little masochistic, but I had to admit that I was anxious.

---

SPOV

I was marking some of the steps to our dance when Eric entered the studio. I knew that he was on time, since I had just looked at the clock not even five minutes before he walked in. Of course I was still pissed that he hadn't come to the dance drawing, but that anger was lessening since he actually showed up today. A little part of me was convinced that he wasn't coming back.

"You're here," I stated. Apparently my brain filter wasn't firing on all cylinders.

"You seem surprised about that," Eric responded, putting his bag down and sitting next to it.

"Well, yeah. It's just that you didn't really seem all that into doing the show."

"Honestly, I'm not. It's a long story, but this wasn't something I ever pictured myself doing."

And there went my bitch switch. I stomped across the room towards him. Which, again, I knew was probably bad for my ballroom shoes. Eric was still sitting down, and that empowered me into thinking that I could intimidate him.

"Well no one is forcing you to be here!" I yelled. "If you left now, maybe I could find myself a new partner before the show starts. Not that you care." I crossed my arms and walked back to where I was standing, but facing the mirrored wall.

I watched Eric stand up and cross the room in about four long strides. Suddenly I wasn't feeling so intimidating. Eric's massive frame dwarfed my own.

"I'm here because I made a commitment to be. I don't break my commitments, but if you don't want me to be here, then I'll leave." And he left.

I stared at my reflection for a couple minutes before I took off after him. One step of his was like six of mine, and I wasn't sure if I could even catch up to him at this point. I got my shoes off as fast as I could and bolted out the door.

I should have known the jackass was waiting for me right outside the door.

"I knew you'd come after me," Eric remarked, that stupid grin spread across his face. Even though Eric did have some rhythm and I'm sure he'd fill out a tux quite nicely, I wasn't about to stroke his already-ginormous ego. I kindly gave him the one-finger salute and walked back into the studio.

I slammed the door behind me, but I noticed that the loud banging noise never came.

"Sookie, wait. I was only kidding."

"That's part of the problem, Eric. I'm taking this seriously. I thought you would too." Eric tried to say something, but I cut him off. "I wanted a partner who would support me and come to group functions. One who would show up on time and get at least a little bit excited about classes and drawings. But instead I got you-- Mr. Arrogant Hollywood Playboy Asshole. To say that I am less-than-thrilled is an understatement. I'm going back my hotel, if you show up here tomorrow at noon, we'll do this thing. If not, I guess it was nice meeting you." Ok, so maybe I was a little harsh, but damn it, I was pissed. I shoved my shoes in my bag, slid on my flip-flops, and walked to the door.

"Hopefully I'll see you tomorrow," I said quietly before the door closed all the way.

---

EPOV

Well, I got my wish. Sookie was livid. So much so, she didn't lighten up any when I tried to joke with her about coming after me. I know that I said that having her pissed at me was a turn on, but having her yell at me and leave wasn't part of the plan.

The worst part of the whole thing was that she was right. I didn't want to be there, and I wasn't taking it seriously. I wanted to tell her why I left early yesterday, but she didn't really give me a chance to explain. Not that she would have excepted my explanation. I really didn't think that she should've had to accept it. Coming into this competition I know that she didn't expect someone who didn't give two shits about ballroom dancing.

And the look she had on her face before she left…she looked like she was about to cry. And that was my fault. And as much as I didn't want to ballroom dance, I hated seeing that look on her beautiful face.

---

SPOV

Ok, so I lied. I didn't go back to my hotel. At least, not right away. I popped in on Amelia and Tray's practice session. I peered through the little window and saw that it looked like the film crew was finishing some shots of the couple. Andy, one of the cameramen, stopped to talk to me as the crew filed out of the room.

"Maybe some shots of you next, Ms. Stackhouse?" I couldn't really tell if he was being sarcastic based on what happened when they wanted to film yesterday.

"Uh, no. Not practicing today. Maybe tomorrow." Apparently, that answer suited him, because he left to catch up with the rest of the crew.

As I entered the room, Amelia broke away from Tray to give me a hug. "I'm so glad you're here. You're the only person who's opinion I trust." Amelia had been assigned the other style, the Paso Doble. "Hey wait, aren't you supposed to be practicing too?"

My face fell a bit. "Yeah, I was."

"Don't tell me he didn't show up again," Amelia interjected.

"No, he did. We just got into it again. Then I thought he left, but he just waited outside to piss me off. Then we got into it some more, and I left. I told him that if he still wanted to compete, then he could come tomorrow." At this point in my spiel, I started to shed some of the tears that I wasn't aware I was holding back.

Amelia charged for the door. "I am going to give that bastard a piece of my mind."

"Don't worry about it. He's probably already gone. Besides, I can't let you bail on Tray here. Now show me some Paso, please," I said, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand. Amelia reluctantly complied.

I watched them practice for the duration of their session. Afterwards, Amelia and I had pizza with Tray before going back to our hotel. It was fun, with Tray trying unsuccessfully to hide his surprise that "us dancer girls" actually ate normal food, but I wished my partner could have been there too. _Or my former partner, depending on what happens tomorrow_, I thought.

When we got back to the hotel, Amelia immediately went to her room to crash. Since neither of us lived in L.A., we opted to get a large suite for the duration of our stay on the show because it'd be cheaper in the long run. Cicita lived with us.

Before I went to sleep that night, I practiced our dance, just in case.

---

EPOV

I got to the lot at 11:30; I was in the little dance studio by a quarter 'til. There was no way that I was going to let Sookie think that I wasn't coming back. So here I sat, pride swallowed, peace offering in a little white bakery bag by my feet.

On my way to the rehearsal space, I passed one of the pros that was sitting with Sookie before class yesterday. She looked like she was trying to kill me with her eyes. Not a look I was used to receiving from women, so it took me a while to process it. It probably would have taken me longer, had I not witnessed that exact same look on Sookie's face.

I was taking a sip of my coffee when the door opened, revealing a complacent Sookie. She was wearing a very tight fitting t-shirt and a big, flowing skirt. I pushed some very inappropriate thoughts to the backburner as I stood to greet her, holding the coffee and pastries of peace out in front of me. Sookie looked from me, to the food, and back to me. I couldn't help but crack a smile.

"Peace offering?"

"As long as there is something sweet in that bag, Northman," she responded, taking the cup of coffee from me.

I bit back several snarky comments that I had in mind, deciding to open up the white bag instead. I handed Sookie a chocolate chip muffin on a napkin before taking one for myself. We ate in silence for a few before I spoke up. "So what kind of dance are we looking at here?"

Sookie popped the last piece of her muffin into her mouth before responding. I was impressed to see that she had a good appetite. That was just so uncommon in women, let alone a dancer, but it was definitely a plus in my book. "Well, there were two styles for the first show," she paused a moment and I could tell that she wanted to elaborate on that, but she didn't, "the Waltz and the Paso Doble. Both are elegant, but Waltz tends to be slower."

"And?"

"We got the Waltz." She looked really happy about that fact. I'm not sure if it was because she really liked the Waltz, or that she was excited to torture me with it. Either way, I liked that look on her face.

"The Waltz," I deadpanned. Sookie started cracking up. _I guess it's the torture part_, I thought.

"Exactly," she responded cheerfully, standing up to throw her trash away. "So, let's get off our butts and get to work. 'Cause I have a feeling there's a lot of it ahead of us." Sookie paired her insult with a cute little smile, which led me to believe that she was going to win a lot of our future arguments with this method. Much like I tried to solve my problems with coffee and baked goods.

She bent over a little in my direction (what a view!) and extended her hands to me. I took them and stood up. Sookie pulled her phone out of her bag and fired off a text. A couple of minutes later Derek, the blonde choreographer from yesterday, entered the room.

"Eric, you remember Derek." I nodded. "He's going to dance your part so we can show you our routine. If you could, just press play when I nod to you." I walked over to the stereo while Sookie and Derek took their positions. She nodded to me and I pressed play.

The room was filled with the haunting voice of a woman. I had never heard the song, but it was beautiful. The song wasn't what I was focused on, however. Sookie was so god dammed graceful. I was also a little bit jealous of the way Derek was touching her. The two of them completed the waltz, Derek thanked both of us, and he made his exit.

I was still standing with the same dumbfounded look on my face. Sookie walked over to where I was standing by the stereo. "So…what do you think?"

"I don't like the way he was touching you," I blurted.

"He wouldn't have had to be here if you would have went to the drawing. We learned our dances right after that. We could have learned it together." She looked away from me and I swore I heard a hint of wistfulness in her voice. _What the fuck?_

I put my hand under her chin, titling her face back toward mine. "We're going to learn the rest of them together, Sookie." A slow smile lit up her face and I broke into a grin. "So let's get on this thing."

---

SPOV

The two weeks of dance camp passed by so quickly, I barely knew what was going on. After that first day of (actual) practice, there were no more tender moments shared between Eric and me. We practiced, I would ask him to join us for group functions, he declined. That was the routine. We did manage to form a decent working relationship, however. I mean, he was still incredibly egotistical and kind of a jerk, but he was a quick learner (minus a few stepped-on feet) and sort of graceful.

I can't say that I wasn't attracted to Eric. I was (who wouldn't be), but it was purely physical. He still had some major personality flaws. Not to mention that he fell into that "guys I work with" category and I was so not going there. So despite his mostly crappy personality, I was super glad that we were doing the Waltz. I mean, the Paso Doble would have been bad either, but I was just glad I didn't have to do any rubbing up against him. I didn't think I could handle that. I knew it was coming, but I wasn't ready to face it yet.

"All done, sweetheart." Arlene's voice pulled me out of my thoughts. She had managed to transform my limp ponytail (hey, it was two weeks of straight practice) into a stunning up-do containing a mass of curls. I knew that it would look awesome with my dress. She also did my makeup. My eyes were top-lined in black and decorated with a line of little rhinestones that followed the liner, there was a slight dusting of shimmery white shadow, and mascara on top and bottom. On my lips Arlene used a shiny clear lip-gloss. I didn't need lipstick; my eyes were dramatic enough all on their own.

"Thanks Arlene, it looks fabulous." I smiled at her and left the hair and makeup trailer. I passed Dahlia and Cicita on my way back to the main building and they both complimented me. I was feeling pretty damn good by the time I got back inside, but my mood was deflated when I saw Eric.

It wasn't Eric that killed my mood, so much as the heavily made up _thing_ hanging off of him. Eric looked quite nice in his tux. _Two points for me for getting that one right_.

"Sophie-Anne," I greeted her.

"Well I have a wardrobe fitting to attend. See you both later." She might have used the word 'both', but it was clear that she was speaking directly to Eric.

"You look nice," he commented. It had all the emotion of ordering a sandwich. "Don't you have wardrobe too?" I was starting to get the impression he wanted to get rid of me. Maybe things weren't going as well as I thought they were.

"Yeah, I suppose I do," I replied before turning around. The walk to wardrobe was short and I was in my costume in about thirty minutes. I did have to wait on the queen, because apparently she required all three wardrobe girls to get her dressed. My dress was gorgeous. It was white with a completely jeweled and sequined bodice. Most of the top half was nonexistent, but there were some crisscrossing straps in the front and some long beaded straps down the back. The skirt was made out of flowy, white gossamer and it had its own little jeweled waist band. On each of my arms were three white bands that connected to some drapey fabric that matched the skirt. I loved it.

I really didn't want to see Eric yet, so I went to the green room. I knew I ran the risk of seeing him in there, but at least there'd be other people to talk to. Sure enough, he was there, but this time he was talking to Pamela. It seemed to work here just like it did in the outside world-- he was never without a girl. I saw him stop his conversation when I walked in, but he quickly went back to talking to Pamela.

The remaining hours passed quickly. We played cards and chitchatted…there was even an impromptu little dance party. Before we knew it, it was show time. The flat screen in the green room clicked on and we could see everything that was going on in the ballroom.

The camera panned to Claudine, who introduced the show. We all lined up with our partners when we heard the theme music start to play. Claudine introduced us, one couple at a time, said a few words about the two styles we'd be dancing, and then we filed back into the green room. There were three couples before us, but it felt like five minutes before we were informed to be on deck.

Eric and I went backstage so we'd be out of the way when they interviewed the couple before us, which happened to be Dahlia and my brother doing the Paso Doble. "Are you ready for this?" I asked. Eric responded by squeezing my hand, which I took as a positive gesture. I mean, he was an actor for Christ's sake! He was probably used to this kind of thing all the time. Well, he had never danced, but he showed some major potential and I encouraged him, so I thought that everything was hunky-dory.

I heard them break for commercial, so I lead Eric out on the dance floor. I gave a small wave to my Gran in the audience before taking my position. We were separate for the beginning, a couple paces away from each other. Once we took our positions, I kept my eyes trained on Eric. I knew that I was probably freaking him out with my staring, but I couldn't help it.

The theme music started playing again and Claudine introduced us. I approached Eric, the two of us falling into the embrace we'd been practicing the last two weeks. I was super proud of how well Eric was keeping his stance, but was quickly brought away from thinking as I concentrated on spotting the many spins that made up our waltz.

_A familiar sound…_

We paused and Eric leaned me back for a dramatic dip. I was pulled up and we went into wide chasse that lead to the next pause and a small dip. More chasses and we were across the floor again. Two more turns and the song went into it's dramatic swell.

_I ran to you like water,  
__I threw my body in…_

Another dramatic dip.

There were some more turns and spins as Eric lead us on our glide across the dance floor.

_But what if I am wrong?  
__A familiar look,  
__A familiar smile  
__Makes it so hard to make a choice  
__I don't know if I should stay…  
_…_away…_

I pulled away from Eric, walking from him while slightly looking back on the word 'away'.

That was the hardest walking away I had ever done in my life.

* * *

**So there is that. Disclaimer: I don't own the song "I Don't Know If I Should Stay" by Alexz Johnson, just like I don't own the SVM Characters. I don't own any of the songs that will be used in this story, just to get that out of the way. Links to the inspiration for this waltz (its also where I got Sookie's dress) as well as a link to the song are in my profile. You guys just have to do this cause I don't think I did it justice in words: pull up the dance video and mute it (make sure its nice and loaded) and pull up the song video (make sure its loaded too). Set it up so the dancers are almost touching. Then press play on the song. Watch magic happen. Just imagine the dance filling more of the song, and imagine Sookie walking away from Eric at the ending.**

**Random facts:  
****-the original song for this dance was going to be Love Song (not sure if I was going to use the 311 or the Cure version though)  
****-I picked "I Don't Know…" before I started writing the Eric/Sookie fighting parts. I'm pleased with the irony of it, and I thought you guys would be too.**

**Up next: Elimination…ooo.**

**-Sydney**


	4. Celebration

**Allegro.**

**

* * *

**

**A/N: Wow, that last chapter developed awesomely, I think. Even though I do have an outline for this, it's really vague. I basically just have a basic format for the chapters and an endgame. So the whole song-fitting-with-story thing was totally a coincidence. Anywho, I know I promised elimination first, I want to wrap up the season premiere, starting with some EPOV. And I know that Sookie kind of skimmed over what happened for the rest of dance camp, so I'm going to allow Eric to elaborate, because I realized I forgot some important premiere stuffs. So please don't beat me for not having Sookie's POV on this stuff. Cause new information is awesome, right?**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter Four- Celebration**

EPOV

The last two weeks have been insane. Sookie and I practiced every day, which, naturally, kicked my ass and made me unwilling to miss my dates with Epsom to attend the cast get-togethers. I actually felt bad about it, because every time Sookie would ask and I'd say no, I'd have to watch her leave practice disappointed. I wanted to tell her about my secret affair with Epsom, but you know how guys are with their pride.

Even though I know that I made her mad by not doing the dinners and things, I felt that we were developing a pretty nice partnership. Sookie was incredibly patient with me and as it turned out, I didn't have two left feet. I believe that Sookie referred to it as me being "graceful", and while that kinda made me feel like a chick, I took the compliment and ran with it.

So we followed our routine for about one and half weeks. We'd meet at noon, practice all afternoon, Sookie'd ask me to dinner or whatever that night's activity was, I decline, we'd leave the studio, both of us disappointed. Our routine changed the Thursday of the second week. That was when the promotional crap began. First, we both attended preliminary wardrobe fittings. My costume was pretty straightforward, it being a tux and all. Sookie, on the other hand, guarded the details of her costume like it was a fucking state secret. I knew it had to match mine in some way, shape, or form, but I _really_ wanted to know what this dress had to look like to make her so damn excited.

Friday was our little intro for the premiere, the bit they'd air before footage of me trying to learn the Waltz and most likely looking like a jackass. That intro. Sookie and I agreed to meet in front of our practice studio, then walk to wherever it was we needed to shoot this thing. I learned later that it was a little room with a green screen that was off of the ballroom.

I was waiting outside our studio, wearing a black t-shirt and pants (Sookie told me to wear something I normally would since I'd only be talking about my acting, and not dancing), when Sookie came down the hall. And I almost came in my pants. She was wearing a little (and I mean _little_) pink outfit that was sparkly and tassel-y. It dipped down extremely low in the front and, after she walked past me and gestured to follow, I noticed that it did a minimal job of covering that gorgeous ass of hers.

"I, uh, thought we were just talking in this thing," I questioned as I hurried to catch up to her after adjusting myself.

"We are, but the pros usually do a little dancing before we talk. Oh, and we're also filming our opening bit."

"Our opening bit?"

"Yeah, it's a little dance move that we do. They film it and then edit it to have our names and probably some sparkly shit in the background. They play them all together as an opening to the show."

I knew what she was talking about. I'd never admit it to anyone, but I'd seen the show before. So I gave a nondescript "okay" and we continued walking to the filming room. Once there, we did our thing. I talked about my movies and Sookie talked about her dancing career. I knew that she had attended Julliard, and I assumed that she had competed professionally, but I had no clue that she was a champion Jive dancer.

Apart from watching her give her interview, I didn't (read: couldn't) watch her do anything else. I really didn't want the entirety of dance-loving America to be introduced to Sookie, me…and my cock.

Something told me that just wouldn't have gone over well.

Then we moved onto the promo in question. Sookie wanted me to spin her around, dip her, and then pull her back up…and rather close to my body. While I was a bit worried about our proximity, I agreed, mostly because it wasn't like I could have come up with anything better. Plus, it was cute and made us look like we got along spectacularly, which was what we needed to project.

Two takes later (and no wardrobe malfunctions) and we had our nice little promo. Sookie was in high spirits, so we decided to go over our routine a couple of times. She thankfully changed into sweats beforehand. If this was what I was to expect by way of her costumes, I didn't know if I could handle it, and that made me feel like a fucking horny teenager all over again.

Saturday we did a couple of run-throughs in the ballroom and Sunday was our day off. It felt a little weird not to see Sookie that day, but I managed to bide my time by practicing and soaking.

Finally Monday had arrived. My wardrobe session went well and my tux looked great. I spent most of the afternoon in the ballroom. No one else was in there and it was peaceful. After a while, I started visualizing people in the audience. This made me a little nervous and I was about to leave when a short girl with reddish-brown hair approached me. I knew that she was one of the professional girls, but I didn't know her name.

"Hi, I'm Sophie-Anne." _Well that answers that question_. It also posed another question: what the hell was she doing talking to me and not her partner. "You are an awfully hard person to find," she stated. I began to say something, but she cut me off. "I heard that you haven't been going to the little group outings either," she continued. Was there a coffee klatch somewhere I wasn't aware of? "I just think that their so…so _hokey_." She spat the word the same way you'd deliver the word 'vomit'. She also threaded her arm through mine at that moment

I was about to shrug her off and interject my feelings about knocking Sookie's gatherings when the coordinator herself walked into the ballroom. Sookie's hair was done up rather nicely and her makeup only enhanced her natural beauty, even though it was quite dramatic. I knew that she saw Sophie-Anne hanging on me, because her face fell a little.

Sookie approached us and addressed Sophie, which seemed to be the magic word to get her to let me go. She straightened up, mentioned something about needing to go to wardrobe, and left.

"You look nice," I told Sookie, trying to sound enthusiastic about seeing her even though I was still pissed at the things that Sophie was saying. Apparently I failed. So I tried to make conversation about wardrobe. That went worse than trying to tell her that she looked nice.

"Yeah, I suppose I do," she said quietly before leaving. Well, fuck.

I didn't see Sookie again for almost an hour and a half. It was in the green room and I was there because Pam had told me that's where everyone was congregating. When Sookie walked in it was kind of like one of those movie moments, like in a Chaplin short, where at the end the picture shrinks gradually into a little circle over Chaplin's face and the rest of the screen goes black. The technical term is to 'iris in', and that was exactly what happened when I saw Sookie.

She was breathtaking in her white gown, but I only allowed myself to look at her momentarily before resuming my conversation with Pam. I was already nervous enough with out having to worry about falling or otherwise embarrass myself by staring at Sookie.

It seemed like an eternity before the show started and even longer until we were called up to be on deck. Then Sookie and I were waiting backstage. She asked me if I was ok, but all I could do was squeeze her hand for fear of throwing up. And it wasn't even the millions of people I knew would be watching on television, it was the people in the fucking studio. I may have been an actor, but I wasn't used to, or even remotely comfortable with, performing in front of people. Especially doing something I'd just started to learn two weeks ago.

Shockingly enough, the dance went off without a hitch. Of course it always felt great to touch Sookie, but being out there and holding her felt _fantastic_. When I had to let her go at the end of our waltz, I nearly whimpered. Yes, fucking _whimpered_. But I maintained my composure, because I knew she'd be pissed at me if I screwed up the ending. Frankly, I'd have been pissed at myself.

When the lights came up, Sookie came back to my side and we walked over to the judges table to receive our criticisms.

---

SPOV

I quickly shook off whatever fleeting thoughts I had about not wanting to be away from Eric. The man was still a jerk that barely acknowledged my presence, even if it did feel nice to be held by him. I reminded myself that it was just a dance and walked back over to him to be judged.

The first judge, Lorena (no last name, like Madonna), was a dancer-singer-actress combo. Claudine asked for her opinion on the dance and, boy, did she give it. "First, I would like to say that that was a beautiful waltz." The audience clapped and cheered loudly at that. "That being said, it was just a bit boring." I looked sideways at Eric, who appeared just as confused as I was. But that was all Lorena was offering on the subject.

"Ok, then. Mr. Edgington, your thoughts?" Claudine asked, successfully shifting the focus to one Mr. Russell Edgington, professional ballroom dancer, judge, and coach.

"Thank you, Ms. Crane. I'd have to say that I disagree with Lorena. We asked for a waltz, and we got a beautiful one at that. Who knew that Mr. Northman here was so graceful," he said with a laugh. The audience laughed a little too and I just couldn't help myself, since I had told Eric the same thing last week. The man in question looked down at me during my giggle tirade and smiled before smiling back at Mr. Edgington.

"Thank you, Mr. Edgington." I subconsciously squeezed Eric's hand for being so polite. I didn't even realize that I had been holding his hand until that moment.

Apparently Russell wasn't done. "And you, Ms. Stackhouse, I'd be hard pressed to find a woman with your elegance in posture." The audience cheered again, and damn it if I wasn't blushing.

"Thank you," I managed to get out.

"And now, for our last judge. Mr. Felipe de Castro," Claudine announced. Felipe de Castro was a choreographer who was known for his work with singers and in the movies.

"That was fantastic!" he exclaimed in his thick Spanish accent. "I do not know what else to say, simply fantastic!" Smiles and cheers were exchanged, theme music was played, and then Eric and I were hustled backstage. Claudine threw to commercial and I knew that we'd be receiving our scores once the break was over.

Once we got backstage we were approached by a pretty blonde who was a bit taller than I was. Her name was Julianne and she was Derek's sister and the backstage correspondent.

"Hey guys. Now when we come back from commercial break we're gonna say a few words and then we're gonna get your scores from the judges. Sound good?" she asked.

"Sounds great," I responded, squeezing Eric's hand again. Then the theme music came again.

"I'm here with Eric Northman and his partner Sookie Stackhouse, and we're anxiously awaiting the score for the beautiful waltz they just performed. So, you guys got rave reviews from both Felipe and Russell, but Lorena was a little less than forthcoming. Care to give us your thoughts? Sookie?" Julianne extended the microphone to me.

"Well, they asked for a waltz, so that's what we gave them. We both gave it our all and hopefully the scores will reflect that," I replied. So what if I was a little sassy, Lorena was kind of a frigid bitch. She hadn't been nearly as harsh on the routines before ours.

Julianne turned to Eric, "And how about you?"

"Like Sookie said, we gave it a hundred and ten percent, and I believe that the judges and the viewers understand that."

"Thank you both," answered Julianne. "And now, the judges' scores." We all focused on the flat screen.

"Lorena," Claudine prompted.

"Four." She was met with some booing from the audience.

"Russell."

"Seven." That was significantly better than a four.

"And Felipe."

"Eight," he replied, holding up his little gold sign.

"And that makes a grand total of nineteen for their waltz," said Julianne as the cameras focused back on us. "That's a great score for the first round guys, congratulations." She hugged me and then sent it back to Claudine for the next dance.

The rest of the show went really well. There were only two couples that outscored us. One was Lafayette and Pamela with their Paso Doble, and the other was Cicita and Quinn with theirs. If Lorena was bored with our waltz, she was even more so by the four others. It felt kind of good to be the only waltz in the top three.

Cicita and Quinn were the last couple to go. After their dance and judging, Cicita ran over and launched herself at me, almost knocking Eric over in the process. "We're in first," she whispered in my ear. I looked over at the scoreboard they were flashing on the screen, and sure enough, they had beaten Pamela and Lafayette twenty-one to twenty. Cicita let go of me and turned to the group. "Season premiere is over. Now let's celebrate!" she exclaimed, pumping her fist in the air. After deciding on a place to meet and the cheering subsided, people gradually began filing out of the green room.

I turned and looked to Eric. "I know you're probably not going tonight, but I'd really like it if we went as a couple." I regretted the words immediately after they left my mouth. Mostly because Eric had that stupid smirk on his face again. "You know what I mean, together, as partners. A couple of dance partners."

"Call it what you want, Stackhouse, but I'll come since it's going to make you so happy." The leer in his voice was unmistakable. I pushed on his shoulder and walked out of the green room.

"Meet me in front of our studio," Eric called after me. "We can ride together."

I changed quickly into a little black dress I had in my car for an occasion such as this. I left my hair and makeup alone because it looked really good and I didn't feel like spending the hour or so it would take to get rid of it.

I found Eric exactly where he said he'd be, in front of our studio. He did, however, fail to mention that he'd be standing there all brooding and good-looking in a tight black tee and nice-fitting black slacks. It was reminiscent of what he wore when we filmed our promotional stuff. I also noticed that he had pulled his hair out of the black tie the stylists had concealed it in.

Damn it, here I was thinking that Eric pretty much lived in tank tops and sweatpants.

"Ready to go?" Boy, was I. I vaguely registered taking the arm that Eric offered and being led out to a red Corvette. I do, however, clearly remember him opening my door and helping me in the car. The drive to the club was a short one…and a silent one, although I had this fleeting feeling that Eric kept glancing over at me while he was driving.

"So…have you ever been to this club?" I asked, attempting to shake that feeling.

"Yeah, a couple of times, with," he paused, this time I was sure he looked over at me. "Uh, yeah I have."

_With? With a girl, I'm sure. Probably a different one each time you went_, I thought to myself.

"So, is it a good one?" I felt as if I was trying to surgically remove the words from his mouth.

"Yeah. I mean, if you like to dance." There went that looking at me thing again, along with the realization of what he just said. He laughed. "Like club dancing, not ballroom. Definitely not ballroom," he said, almost to himself. By this time we had pulled up to the club's valet. Eric helped me out of the car before tossing his keys to the attendant. Who was this man and what did he do with my asshole Eric?

"I have gone club dancing before, Eric," I commented as we walked up to the rest of the group. They were gathering on the sidewalk by the club's door.

"They teach you that at Julliard?"

And he was back. I knew he couldn't be gone for too long.

"Asshole," I muttered under my breath before moving away from Eric to greet Amelia and Cicita. Apparently, Eric and I were the last to arrive, so we hurried to the front door. I guess having ten celebs and nine dancers (Sophie-Anne was naturally MIA) who happened to be on TV gets you right into the clubs. I can't say that it wasn't strange being recognized, despite the fact that our show _just_ aired. I also can't say that it wasn't strange that Eric decided to drape his arm around my shoulders as we walked into the club.

Stranger than that? I didn't make any attempts to remove it. I so needed a drink.

I was intent on making a beeline to the bar, whether Eric wanted to or not. Thankfully it was 'or not', but Ames and Ci did accompany me.

"A Gin and Tonic, please," I told the interestingly-dressed bartender. The other girls ordered their drinks and I handed the bartender my credit card. After running my card, she gave me an interested look.

"Oh my gawd! You're on Dancing With The Stars, aren't you?" She didn't even give me time for a response before she jumped on her next sentence. "We watched the premiere while we were opening. You're Eric Northman's partner! You're so lucky," she continued to gush. I looked over at the man in question. He was talking to Pamela and flirting with a waitress. Lucky wasn't exactly the adjective I would have used. Unfortunately, the bartender decided to follow my line of sight. "Oh! He's here too. They're all here, aren't they?" Once again, no chance for me to interject. "I can't wait to see you guys dance together in person. I'll have to mention something to the DJ." Damn, she was a chatty one.

I looked down at the drink in my hand, well, actually it was an empty glass. I looked back up at the bartender. "I'll take another G&T. On second thought, make that two." She smiled and filled my order. I downed the first and took my second drink over to the table where Eric and Pamela were sitting. I had noticed that Amelia and Cicita had already gone off to mingle with their partners, most likely when I was listening to the verbal whirlwind that was Mindy, the bartender (I read her nametag). So I decided to head over to mine. To keep up appearances and such. Right.

Eric had a beer bottle in hand and Pamela was drinking something really colorful out of a martini glass. "Sookie! There you are," Eric called when he saw me approaching. When I got closer to their table, he hopped up and offered me his seat at their two-top. Bi-polar Eric was starting to freak me out. "This is Sookie, my partner," he announced to Pamela. Yup, definitely starting to freak me out.

"I know who she is, Eric. I'm Pam," she said, extending a slender hand in my direction.

"Nice to meet you." She smiled at me and in that moment, I felt Pamela…I mean Pam…was someone I could get along with. Plus, she was snappy with Eric and I could definitely appreciate that.

"I was wondering where you hads gotten to, sugar," came a voice behind me. I didn't even need to turn around, there was only one man I knew who added the letter 's' to most of his verbs.

"Lafayette," Pam confirmed. When he made it into my line of sight, I noticed that he was wearing a purple sequined shirt that matched the wrap on his head. He hadn't worn makeup during the show, but now he was wearing a full face of it in all his fabulousness.

"Sookie-child," he said, giving me a side hug, drink in the other hand. "Aren't you just lookin' all kinds of delicious in that LBD." I noticed that Pam nodded, almost in…approval?

"Thanks Lafayette."

"Ain't no thang, sugar. Now I had come over here to see if Pammy here wanted to dance. Or Mr. Viking here," he said, shifting his gaze to Eric, who offered a smirk and a 'no thanks' gesture. Lafayette smiled and turned back to Pam.

"Of course, hun," Pam replied, standing up and going off with him. Eric scooted over and took her vacant seat.

"What are you drinking?" Eric asked as he gestured for one of the waitresses. I was about to object and say that I already had a drink when I noticed I was empty again. _Where has all the gin gone?_ I asked myself. In my head, my voice was doing a bad impression of Captain Jack Sparrow. I laughed out loud.

"Oh, a gin and tonic, please," I managed before giggling again. The waitress returned with my drink and another beer for Eric. I had that feeling that Eric was staring at me again.

"Do you want to dance?" I was suddenly aware that I had been swaying along to the music. I nodded at Eric and he offered me his hand. I stood up and followed, but not before finishing my drink.

The song playing was Swing by Savage. I noticed that it had a fantastic beat and immediately started moving my hips. Then, it was my favorite song ever. I grabbed Eric's hands that were resting on my waist and decided that they were too tame. So I moved them lower, setting them a little below my hips. Eric seemed to enjoy this. He tightened his grip, pulled me against his body, and grinded into me a little.

I turned to face him in time with the beat. I widened my stance, straddling Eric's leg and causing my dress to ride up a bit. Eric's hands managed to find their way to my ass. I slid my hands up his chest and wrapped my arms around his neck.

Suddenly kissing him sounded like a fabulous idea.

I grabbed his hand, mumbling something about needing air, and led us out of the club. Once we were outside, I crashed my lips to Eric's. He reciprocated for a little before pulling away. "Sookie, how much have you had to drink?"

"Not _that_ many. Now…I thought you were enjoying this," I slurred, launching myself at him again. I ran my tongue across his bottom lip and was granted access.

That was the last thing I remember.

---

_Shit, what is that light_, I wondered as I pried my eyes open. _More important than the light, where the hell am I?_

I looked around the room. It was the bedroom part of what I assumed to be a swanky L.A. apartment. I looked down at myself. _Not my dress_.

_This can't be good._

* * *

**Blame it on the a-a-a-a-a-alcohol. Wow…I wonder what happened. Oh, and I hope you liked the 'Knocked Up' reference.**

**Let me tell you a little story. Once upon a time, I fully intended to include to include both elimination and round two in this chapter. But then Eric's say took way more words then I intended. And then judging took awhile, and then I still had to write the club scene. So next chapter we'll be on to elimination, I promise. Right after we figure out what the hell happened with Sookie and Eric. Any guesses?**

**So Happy New Moon premiere tomorrow (well, it's officially in like 10 minutes for us kids on the East Coast). I was planning on going on Saturday like I did with Twilight to avoid the teenybopping Twi-Hards (and the small children who really shouldn't be there), but my best friend convinced me to go with her and her little sister and her friends. So I'm hoping all the teenyboppers in my area are either doing the midnight thing, the skipping school thing, or the Friday night thing...and not the right afterschool showing thing. This should be fun. Don't get me wrong, I'm stoked about the movie (avid Jasper fan here), I just have a little less enthusiasm about it than the teens (and by this I mean the range of like 13-16...seeing as I'm technically still a teen at 19). But it should be fun :).**

**-Sydney**


	5. Misconceptions

**Allegro.**

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**A/N: A big thanks to everyone who reviewed and alerted and such. Ya'll really seemed to enjoy that chapter, even though I got carried away with Sookie and her drunken shenanigans.**

**Before I forget again, for those who don't watch DWTS, let me explain our judges, Lorena is representing Carrie Anne Inaba (who I'm not too fond of for some reason), Russell is in place of Len Goodman, and Felipe is in place of Bruno Tonioli. Just to clear that up. Also, all info mentioned about their dancing backgrounds is accurate according to wikipedia (rate that accuracy as you will).**

**Enjoy!**

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**Chapter Five- Misconceptions**

SPOV

I was just about to get out of bed when the door opened. In strolled Eric, clad in a pair of grey lounge pants. He was carrying two mugs.

"Thought you might like some coffee. I brought some aspirin too," he said, offering me a mug and two little capsules.

"Thanks for the hospitality," I spat sarcastically.

"God, I know. I must be some horrible person for hauling your drunk ass home, giving up my bed, and making coffee and breakfast." Eric rolled his eyes and turned to leave.

"And where does undressing me fit into all of that?" I yelled before he got to the door. He turned around and I gestured to my outfit, or lack thereof.

"I just lent you a shirt. You undressed yourself, sweetheart."

Now it was my turn to roll my eyes. "Don't even try, Eric. I know what you're like." I crossed my arms.

"What I'm like? Was I the one who got drunk and tried to get us to sleep together?" he asked with that stupid smirk of his.

"What? I only remember kissing you, which you didn't try to stop by the way. Then I guess I passed out. God knows what happened after that," I replied, narrowing my eyes at him.

"What the fuck, Sookie?" Eric crossed the room and got up in my face, which was doing zero to help my headache. "You actually think I'd take advantage like that?"

"I don't know what to think. Last thing I remember, we were kissing. Now, I wake up in _your_ bed, wearing only panties and _your_ t-shirt. I don't have too much experience with man-whores, but even I can put two and two together." My yelling wasn't doing anything for my head either.

Eric laughed. He actually fucking laughed. "Man-whore? Well, maybe." Another laugh. "Date rapist? Definitely not. You were drunk, I kept you safe. That's all that happened. If that makes me a bad guy, then fuck you." He turned and stomped out, slamming the door behind him. If I didn't know any better, I'd say he looked hurt.

I managed to drag my ass out of bed when I noticed that there was an adjoining bathroom off of Eric's bedroom. I showered and changed back into my dress from last night. _Did Eric say something about breakfast?_

I wandered out of the bedroom and into the rest of the apartment. That was when I realized that there were sheets and pillows on the couch, and it looked very slept in. I suddenly felt like a huge bitch for what I accused Eric of. I found my way into the little kitchen area, where Eric was frying something that smelled like bacon.

"Eric," I said, but it was barely above a whisper. He turned to face me after plating the bacon.

"Oh good, you're dressed. Um, I guess you can eat and then I'll drive you to your hotel."

I sat down at the little island. "Eric, I'm…"

"Just save it, Sookie." His tone was ice cold. He thrust a plate in front of me and turned back to the stove. I ate quickly and then we were on the road back to my hotel. I turned to Eric as we pulled up to the curb.

"Thank you and I'm sorry." I didn't even look up at him before getting out and walking into the hotel.

---

EPOV

_What the fuck!?!_ I couldn't believe what Sookie had accused me of. It almost made me want to just tell her that she could walk back to her hotel, but I knew that wouldn't help things any. We did still have to see each other later today. So I dropped her off, hoping that both of our heads would be clearer by show time.

Everything I told Sookie was entirely true. Yes, she did kiss me, and yes, I did respond, but I figured that there was no harm in kissing her while she was drunk. She didn't seem to be mad about that, from what I gathered this morning. She was just mad about what didn't happen, despite what she thought.

We were making out in front of the club for a little while before things started to pick up. Apparently, Sookie was more clothing-optional in her gin-riddled state. When she tried to start ripping our clothes off, I knew I had to get her out of there. Maybe taking her back to my place wasn't the best of ideas, but I had no clue where her hotel was and I couldn't find anyone who might know that information.

When we did get back to my apartment, Sookie resumed attempting to strip. She stumbled around, alternating between trying to talk dirty and physically attacking me, until I finally grabbed her one of my shirts and barricaded her in my bedroom. Twenty minutes later, the noise had died down considerably, so I opened the door. Sookie had changed and passed out on my bed. Thankfully, she had managed to get herself under the covers, so I didn't have to risk waking her up. I shut the door and went back out into the great room. I grabbed some sheets and a pillow out of the linen closet, made myself a couch bed, and went to sleep, hoping that Sookie would sleep through the night.

When I had woken up, my bedroom door was still closed, so I figured Sookie was still sleeping. I made coffee and got out some breakfast foods, all ready to offer Sookie a mug and a plate when she finally woke up. See what I mean about using food as a means of communication? Once the coffee was done, I filled two mugs and grabbed some aspirin, figuring Sookie might need it.

Then the shit hit the fan.

As I pulled back up to my place, I wondered what all this would mean for our relationship as dance partners.

---

Later that day, I drove to the studio for elimination. Half of me wanted to just get the axe and be done with it all, but the other half of me wanted to spend more time with Sookie, even if she did accuse me of taking advantage of her when she was drunk. There was just something about her; even when she was pissing me off, I still wanted to see her.

I found her bent over and stretching in our studio. Any other day, this would have made me swoop into the room and spout off some sort of innuendo. Today, while I was still aroused by the sight of her, I decided to wait outside and watch her for a minute through the little window.

After she finished stretching, Sookie walked out of my line of sight. Over to the stereo, I assumed. She came back into view and started to dance. Due to the soundproofing, I couldn't tell what the song was, but by the way that she was moving I could tell that it was slow. She was wearing her white waltz costume and it was starting to affect me fifty times more than it had last night, and that was saying something. Her hair wasn't styled and she wore no makeup, but watching her look and dance like that immediately made me feel like an ass for cutting off her apology earlier.

I opened the door slowly, for fear that moving quickly would shatter the atmosphere that Sookie's dancing had created. I opened it so slowly in fact, that she didn't even notice me enter. I didn't recognize the music, but I could tell that it was something classical.

Sookie did some sort of turning leap thing that left her directly facing me. I could see the surprise cover her face as she realized I was there. "Eric," she breathed.

"Hey." I know, eloquent, but I couldn't think of anything else at that moment.

"I think we need to talk," Sookie started.

"I think you're right. I also think that I should have let you talk earlier, when I dropped you off."

"I think I should have believed your explanation. Or at least listened to it."

With that, Sookie took my hand and pulled us down to a sitting position. I sat with my legs spread and stretched out in front of me and Sookie sat cross-legged in the space in between them. It was the closest we could have been without touching.

"I was wrong to jump to conclusions about what happened. It's just that I've read and heard so much about you…" I held up my hand to stop her for a minute.

"You know you shouldn't believe everything that you read in the tabloids, Sookie."

She looked down at the floor. "I know, and I'm sorry. Just because I heard you've been with a lot of women, doesn't mean I should have assumed you took advantage of any of them. I'm so, so sorry, Eric."

"Nope, all of them were active participants," I quipped. I couldn't help it. I also couldn't help the smile that played at my lips. Sookie's eyes darted up to meet mine, and she looked mortified. But then she smiled and I knew everything would be okay between us.

"On a more positive note, I did enjoy kissing you," I smirked at her and we were back to mortified.

"About that…"

"Nope. Don't apologize for it, because I won't accept it. Alcohol lowers one's inhibitions, which means that you wanted to kiss me. We'll just have to take a rain check on the rest of the stuff you were trying to accomplish." I winked at her, stood up, and went for the door. "See you in a few for elimination, sweetheart." And I left.

---

SPOV

Where in the hell did Eric get off? No, scratch that, I didn't want to know. I sat cross-legged, staring at the door for a couple of minutes after Eric left. So now we were on good terms and he…wanted me? That's what I had gathered, but more importantly, did I want him? I guess I did…and he knew it. Damn him.

I picked myself up off of the floor and went to the mirror to inspect my dress. Thankfully, I hadn't gotten anything on it by sitting on the floor. I hadn't gone to makeup yet, but I had done my own hair in a half-up, half-down style. Checking my appearance one last time, I decided that I was presentable and headed off to Makeup.

---

I didn't reunite with Eric until it was almost show time. By the time I got to Makeup, all of the other girls were already in line ahead of me. When I entered the green room, Eric sidled up next to me.

"Fashionably late, I see," he commented.

"It takes a lot to make all of this look good," I retorted, gesturing to myself.

"See, now I highly doubt that." Eric grabbed my arm and led us to the stage area. "You look great in anything. Or nothing, I'd imagine." He smirked and placed a kiss on my temple. I was just about to respond when we heard our names announced.

"_Actor Eric Northman and his partner, Sookie Stackhouse._"

I plastered a smile on and let Eric lead me down the staircase. We lined up on the little stage, the third couple out of the gates, so to speak. We were being judged alongside Alcide and Maria-Star and Hoyt and Jessica. Claudine did her recap of everyone's routines, complete with clips from last night. As I was watching ours, I couldn't help but smile at how well Eric did for his first time dancing in front of people. We looked good.

Then the lights dimmed and I started to get nervous. A spotlight shone on Alcide and Maria-Star…and Claudine announced them as safe. They left the stage and the spotlight went on Hoyt and Jessica. Claudine spoke a few more words about their performance…and announced them as being in the bottom three. I felt Eric relax behind me. While it wasn't completely impossible for us to be in the bottom, it was highly unlikely.

The spotlight moved to us…and we were pronounced safe as well. I slid my arm through Eric's and we left the stage. I don't think we were out of the green room for five seconds before Eric scooped me up into a hug. And I'm talking a hoisted, legs around waist hug. He held me for a moment before releasing me.

"What was that for?" I asked, straightening my dress.

"I'm just glad to be still in it."

Oh. Nothing about me, I guess. Wait, _what?_

"Yeah, me too. What do you say we go watch Michael Bublé perform?" I turned for the door to the green room. He murmured affirmation before following me back inside.

After the performance, I decided that I could get used to seeing all of these stars perform, even if it was during elimination. Claudine called up four more couples; Pam and Lafayette, and Sophie-Anne and Bill were declared safe right off the bat. After another commercial break, so were Cicita and Quinn, leaving Dahlia and Jason to join the bottom three. Then Michael Bublé came back out to perform another song, accompanied by Alcide, Claude, Cicita, and Amelia doing a waltz.

"Are you going to have to do some of those kinds of dances?" came a deep voice from behind me. I turned to look at Eric and nodded; I was actually looking forward to the pro dances.

"I think I'd enjoy that," he replied, throwing a smirk my way. I pushed him playfully on the shoulder and went back to watching my friends dance.

Next, the last three couples were called up. Claude and Hadley were safe, as were Amelia and Trey. This made JB and Tara the final couple in the bottom three. Claudine threw to another commercial break, during which they lined up the bottom three couples. I was secretly rooting for my brother and Dahlia. Their Paso was actually pretty good. Especially for Jason, who virtually had no rhythm.

Hoyt and Jessica were the ones to go and with that, the second show of the season was over. Everyone was in a considerably less-amicable mood than they had been last night, which was not surprising, seeing as we just lost a couple. I was on my way back to the dressing room to change when I was abruptly pulled down a hallway. I was just about to slap the crap out of whoever grabbed me when I noticed whose body it was that was pinning me against the painted concrete wall.

"Eric? What are you doing?"

"Kidnapping you. Unless you want to come willingly." His eyes danced as he looked down at me.

"Kidnapping me to go where, exactly?"

"Coffee. It's harmless, no gin involved, I promise." This time I did slap him.

"Too soon? I'm sorry. How about coffee _and _pie, then. We can have our own celebration."

"Pie sounds good." Honestly, with the way Eric was pressing up against me, the gin sounded pretty good too, but that was a road I was so not going down again.

We got changed and walked out to our respective cars, considering mine was still in the parking lot from last night's endeavor. I had ridden with Amelia to the studio today. I followed Eric to a little diner a couple of minutes away from the studio. It was actually quite close to my hotel, but I'd never been there.

Eric took my hand and led me into a booth in the back of the diner. We sat across from each other, which was perfectly fine by me. I ordered a slice of Dutch Apple pie to go with my coffee; Eric ordered French Silk.

"So," Eric announced while we were waiting on our pie, "when do we get to learn our next routine?"

"Well, look at you taking this seriously," I teased, grinning at him from behind my coffee cup. "I didn't think you liked ballroom that much."

"I don't, but I do like touching you." I suppose I asked for that. Naturally, the waitress chose to appear during that particular exchange.

"I thought you kids looked familiar," remarked the little grey haired woman, obviously looking over the 'touching' comment. "You're on _Dancing With the Stars_." We both nodded. "You're waltz was just lovely," she said as she set our pie on the table.

"Thank you, ma'am," I replied. After she walked away, I turned to Eric. "That happened at the club last night too. It's strange."

"Hmm, I guess I'm just used to it." He would be used to women gushing over him, wouldn't he?

We both shrugged and dug into our slices of pie. I was about halfway through my slice when Eric offered me a bite of his. Never one to turn down chocolate, I accepted. He broke off a piece with his forked and extended it across the table to me, but not far enough and I had to stand a little to reach it. I leaned across the table and wrapped my lips around his fork. Why I closed my eyes after taking the pie, I'll never know, but I did. The pie was fantastic. A very fluffy chocolate, I noted as I was about to open my eyes and sit back.

I never made it that far. As soon as I swallowed, Eric pressed his lips to mine. I opened my eyes for a brief second before melting into the kiss. He swiped his tongue against my lips, seeking entrance, but I pulled back.

"Chocolaty," he commented.

"Eric, we can't," I replied, settling back on my side of the booth.

"Why not?"

"We work together, I promised myself I wouldn't."

"What about last night?"

"Last night doesn't count. I'm sober now, and I'm saying we can't."

"Sookie, it's obvious that we want each other, we--"

I cut him off. "Stop, Eric. We can't." I pulled some money out of my purse and put it on the table. "I'll see you tomorrow to start the new dance. Be there at noon." I got up and left the diner.

---

EPOV

She left. She fucking left.

She fucking left because I had to go and fucking kiss her. Wait, no. I wasn't going to apologize for kissing her, especially when she was the one who had to go and moan with my fork in her hot little mouth. I wasn't going to apologize when it was her little hang-up that was the problem. I personally had no qualms about being involved with someone I worked with. In fact, I'd done it a couple of times, hence some of those tabloids that Sookie apparently reads.

I would just have to find a way to get through to her.

* * *

**Yeah, I'm gonna cut it off there. And I know I promised round two, and believe me, I really wanna get to it, but I also want to keep my chapters around the same length. And this also gives me time to locate some phenomenal costumes for our lovers-in-denial. So I swear, next chapter will start right off with the practice for round two, and it won't end until the curtain closes on Monday night. I might even include some stuff after that.**

**-Sydney**


	6. I Know You Want Me

**Allegro.**

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**So, you guys have no idea how badly I've wanted to post this chapter without getting to the end of round two. But I was all like, 'No, I promised'. Anywho, here's chapter seis (It's latin ballroom time!). It's the long-awaited round two! Also, I believe some shout-outs of congratulations are in order re: the Eric and his Great Pumpkin Contest. Congrats to LindsayK for first place, to Suki59 for second place, and to Nyah for judge's choice. Rock on, ladies. Rock on.**

**Enjoy!**

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**Chapter Six- I Know You Want Me**

SPOV

I bolted up in bed for the fourth time tonight. Each and every time it was because of Eric. Well, a dream about Eric.

No, this was partially his fault too. Him and his kiss.

The dreams were different though, they went way past just a kiss. They all ended the same way: lack of fulfillment and me practically jumping out of bed, frustrated and covered in sweat.

I glanced over at my clock, thankful that it was at least late enough to wake up, and pulled myself out of bed and into the shower. After a quick shower, I found the baggiest, frumpiest, most unflattering pair of sweatpants that I could. To hell with the fact that I could potentially be taped while wearing them. I figured that the worse I looked, the less interest Eric would have. I dug around a little and found an old AC/DC shirt that was about two sizes too big, pulled my hair up into a ponytail, skipped makeup, and headed to the studio.

I found Eric camped out in front of our practice room, along with Maks and another one of the choreographers, Cheryl Burke.

"Sorry if I kept y'all waiting. I just had a…late start."

"It is perfectly fine, Sookie. We were just explaining some of the finer points of Latin ballroom to Mr. Northman here," Maks replied. I almost choked. _Latin_ ballroom?

"Latin ballroom?" I'm pretty sure that I squeaked.

Cheryl laughed. "Mmhmm, more specifically, Cha Cha." Fan-freaking-tastic.

I plopped my unhappy butt on the floor next to Eric while Maks plunked a CD into the stereo. When I heard the intro to the Pitbull song, I almost cried. _I Know You Want Me_? Seriously? That's just cruel.

We watched Cheryl and Maks do the routine and it only took me two go-throughs to pick it up. The choreographers left and I turned to Eric.

"This may be Latin, but don't get fresh," I warned.

"_You're_ the one who has to grab _my_ ass, and you're telling me not get fresh?" Damn, I was hoping he didn't notice that part and I could just edit it out.

"Just keep the touching to what's in the routine, okay?"

"Yes ma'am." And there was that fucking smirk of his.

---

EPOV

I had only been sitting outside the studio for about fifteen minutes, but I had already heard enough about Latin ballroom to last me a lifetime. I was just about to lapse into a coma when Sookie came into view, looking like she had just rolled out of bed. _My_ bed, more specifically. Seriously. I owned that exact AC/DC shirt and sweats that looked similar. The whole outfit was way too big and practically swallowed her, but she looked fucking gorgeous. I could almost picture her lounging around my apartment, looking nice and freshly-fucked.

After she warned me to keep my hands from wandering, we practiced our routine until they kicked us out around six. I was actually getting the steps really well AND I didn't feel like complete shit afterwards. It was a pretty good day in my book.

"So, I guess I'll see you tomorrow," Sookie said as we made our way out to our cars, which, by the way, were the only ones in the parking lot.

I looked at her for a second. "You mean no invitation for dinner?" I was starting to get accustomed to her asking me.

"Eric, you managed to make pie dirty. I don't even think I'd go to _church_ with you."

"Well, that's lucky for me then, because I don't go to church."

"_Shocking_."

"Do you always make it a habit of moaning while you eat, or is that something specific to French silk pie?"

"What? I don't moan while I eat."

"Yup, you caught me. I'm completely lying. So are we getting dinner or not?"

"_I'm_ getting dinner. I could care less what you do." She opened the door to her car. I grabbed the door before she could shut it.

"Sookie, look. You need to eat, I need to eat. Why can't we just do it together?" She looked shocked by my phrasing and started to blush. Excellent.

"Fine, but it better be pizza or something takeout, because there is no way in hell I'm going out in public dressed like this."

I was in her passenger seat in a flash. "Great, we'll get something and take it back to my place, avoid the public completely."

---

SPOV

I have no idea why I agreed to dinner with Eric. Better yet, I have no idea why I was currently driving back to his apartment with a pizza and some of those cinnamon stick things.

The nanosecond we got into his doorway, Eric shucked his shirt…and I seriously started to reconsider this course of action. You know those beautiful marble statues of Greek men? They had nothing on Eric. The man was Adonis incarnate. I suddenly felt like a bum the way that I was dressed.

"So…pizza," I commented, sitting the box down on Eric's counter. He walked over and hopped on the counter. He had opened the box and grabbed a slice of pizza in the process. So I guess he was Spiderman, too. I gingerly walked over to grab my own slice and sat on his couch. Nice and far away from the half-naked man. Good Sookie.

We ate quickly and quietly, disturbed only by Eric jumping off of the counter to throw the empty box away. "So how about we work on that dance some more," he announced.

"You want to practice? Seriously?" _Am I being Punked?_

"Seriously," he confirmed. "You have the CD, right?" I nodded and handed it to him.

So we practiced for another couple of hours and, yes, Eric remained shirtless. It was _beyond_ distracting. Then and there I resolved to have him wear a shirt the night of the show, regardless of whatever Wardrobe's thoughts on the matter were.

He spun me, and dipped me, and near-flawlessly completed the routine several times over. I was really impressed with his work ethic on this one. When we finished, we both collapsed on the couch.

"So what made you want to practice more tonight?" I asked as I sat propped up on the arm of the couch, facing Eric.

"Maybe I want to win this thing. I am very competitive, you know." He looked at me for a moment before continuing. "Or maybe I just wanted an excuse to touch you more, since you're so determined to keep any wandering hands in check." Now that sounded more like Eric.

I rolled my eyes at him and searched around for a clock. "Damn, I hadn't realized it had gotten so late. I should go." I stood up, but a hand on my wrist prevented me from moving anywhere.

"Sookie, you drove us here. You could take me back to my car, but I'm nice and comfy and what's the point? Just stay the night. I make a mean couch bed."

Realization hit me like a tidal wave. "I knew it, this was your intention all along. How could I have been so stupid?" I face-palmed myself.

"I could go into a whole monologue about how I don't want you driving or going home alone this late, but the fact of the matter is that I want you to stay they night. I like you and I know you like me, you just have some God-forsaken hang-up about fraternizing with co-workers. I'm not asking for anything but your company and the assurance that you're safe tonight. I'm offering breakfast in the morning and a rather comfy couch." He bounced up and down a couple of times for emphasis.

In what I'd like to refer to as a moment of weakness, I caved. It might have been the fact that I was dog tired after a full day of dance practice. It was probably the fact that Eric looked incredibly cute sitting on his couch all shirtless and pouty. You tell me what you would have done in the same situation.

"Fine, but I don't have any clothes to wear tomorrow." There was no way I was wearing this home or back to the studio, especially when there was nothing happening worth doing a walk of shame over. I couldn't decide if I was happy or sad about that fact.

"Well, you're in luck. I just so happen to have clothes that resemble what you're wearing now." He turned back toward his bedroom.

"Wait, where is your washing machine?"

"Straight through those doors." Eric gestured to a set of bi-fold doors. It looked like a closet. I waited until Eric had left the room before quickly shucking my sports bra and panties and tossing them into the washing machine. I knew that it was a waste of water to do such a small load, but re-wearing undergarments after practicing all day was gross, and while I may have been borrowing Eric's clothes tomorrow, I knew he didn't have anything that would work underneath.

I did, however, feel bad about wasting _Eric's_ water, so I decided to see if he had any laundry to add. I walked back to his bedroom and knocked on the door. Eric opened it and entered the hallway carrying a change of clothes for me. Oh, and did I mention he was only wearing boxers?

As he moved to another closet, I remembered what I was going to ask him. "I was doing a load of laundry and came to collect whatever you had to add." I noticed that his eyes darted down to my chest before refocusing on my face to answer.

"Uh, yeah. Hamper's by the door. I'm gonna go make your bed." I watched him pull some sheets out of the closet, then I turned back to his bedroom. Sure enough, there was a little hamper sitting by the door. Most of the clothes had missed it, but the hamper was there. After tucking the errant clothes into the hamper, I emptied it into the washer.

Turning back to the living room, I noticed that Eric had made my couch bed and fled the scene. I figured he had retired to his bedroom for the evening, so I laid down on the couch to wait for the washer to finish. I must have dozed off, because I woke up to the washer buzzing a little while later.

I got up, moved the clothes to the dryer, and was about to hop back in bed when I heard noises coming from Eric's room. It sounded like a television, so I figured that Eric was still up. I made the short trip to his door, knocked, and hoped to God that he wasn't watching porn or something.

The TV noise had changed a little, so I figured he had changed the channel. Probably from porn. But then I heard, "Come in," so I figured that it was safe and opened the door. Eric was sitting up in his bed, propped up on some pillows, sheets pulled up to his waist.

"I heard the noise, so I figured you were up," I explained. "I hope I wasn't interrupting anything." And boy did I. The sudden channel change made me think I had.

"Nope, you're fine," he responded, patting the bed next to him. I climbed in, but settled under his comforter, in favor of under the sheets.

"Whatcha watching?"

"Nothing, just flipping channels."

"Yeah, right." Was that out loud?

"You weren't interrupting anything, if that's what you're wondering." So apparently it had been out loud. Maybe he was just flipping channels. "I had just finished." Or not…

I shot off the bed. "Oh gross. I'm gonna go back to the couch."

Eric scooted over to the side of the bed I just got off of. The sheets had slipped down just the tiniest bit and he was, indeed, naked underneath. "Sookie, wait. Sit back down. We could watch a movie or something. I promised you I wouldn't try anything and I meant it. But watching you prance around all day today looking like you're wearing my clothes proved to be too much."

"Wait, _your_ clothes?"

"I have that exact shirt, Sookie." Oh.

"I wore this outfit because I thought it would turn you off," I admitted, looking down. I felt the bed shift, saw Eric go off to the bathroom, felt the bed shift again, and then his arms were around me. He was now wearing a pair of lounge pants.

"Sookie, if getting drunk and throwing yourself at me didn't work, I don't think anything will." I whipped my head around to face him and a kiss that was directed at my cheek landed square on my mouth. He pulled back. "I didn't mean for that to happen, I swear."

"I know, it's ok." I turned to pick up the remote and found a movie to watch, but Eric's arms remained around me.

"Not that I didn't want it to happen, it's just…"

"Eric, I know. Watch the movie…please," I pleaded. It was all I could do not to kiss him again. Staying in his bed probably didn't help, but I didn't want to leave him either. So that's how, for the second time, I ended up sleeping in Eric Northman's bed…without having sex with him.

At least this time I remembered that I didn't.

---

EPOV

I slipped out of bed around noon the next day. Sookie was still sleeping and she looked incredibly peaceful. I swear that it made me want to wake up next to her more often, and I had no idea where that came from.

As I was fixing the breakfast that I had promised, I saw Sookie dart out of my room, grab the clothes I left for her, and run back to my room. She reemerged twenty minutes later, freshly showered and wearing my clothes. Fuck. Me. Offering me a smile, she took a seat at the counter as I handed her a plate full of scrambled eggs and sausage.

In retrospect, serving sausage was a bad, bad idea. Apparently, she shared the same affection for it as she did for French silk pie. The phallic nature of the sausage definitely wasn't helping any. I shifted uncomfortably for a minute before speaking.

"Uh, Sookie, you're doing it again."

She looked up at me. "Doing what?"

"Moaning…while you're eating. It's distracting, to say the least."

"Oh, God. I'm sorry. It's just that your sausage is so good." Uh…sure. "Shit, not _your_ sausage, the sausage you…shit, you know what I mean." She buried her head in her hands for a moment before looking up. "I mean, I'm sure your sausage is fine too, Eric." Then she smirked at me. _She_ smirked at _me_. And I was completely caught off guard.

But only for a moment.

"I'm sure I could arrange a taste test for you, sweetheart."

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" she asked.

"Immensely."

"Then no," she deadpanned.

"And here I thought you might be into it. You wound me, Sookie Stackhouse."

"And you disgust me, Eric Northman," she replied, but she said it with a smile. "You might want to get dressed before I leave your ass here. I'll clean up." I looked down at my lounge pants and headed to my bedroom. When I came back out, my kitchen was spotless. It sparkled like those vampires in that movie.

Sookie was sitting at the counter, reading the paper. She looked up as I entered. "You'll need to grab a change of clothes before we leave, and we'll need to swing by my hotel before we go to the studio. I just got off the phone with Sam, our little 'outing' is tonight."

"What's with the air quotes? And where are we going?" I asked as we walked back to my bedroom.

"We're going out, but it's not technically out because we'll have camera detail… and we're working together," she added, almost as an afterthought. "And it's a surprise, so I'm not telling."

"How am I supposed to know what to bring?"

"Bring something nice. Pretend like you're going on a date." She turned and walked back down the hall.

Some time later, we were pulling into the studio parking lot. I was still thoroughly confused about Sookie's mysterious non-date. I just hoped the clothing that I brought was sufficient.

When we made it to our practice room, we could hear music coming from the main ballroom. Sookie got really excited for some reason and took off down the hall. By the time I caught up to her, the music had been replaced by girl squeals. Sookie was jumping up and down with Cicita, the little brunette who was currently in first place. Watching the two girls hugging and jumping was definitely an enjoyable sight. I glanced over at her partner, John Quinn, and he seemed to be of the same mindset.

"I feel like it's been forever since I've seen you," Cicita squealed as the jumping ceased. Damn. But at least they were still hugging.

"Oh, I know. I've been around the suite and the studio, guess we just keep missing each other." _I guess they live together too_, I thought. I knew that Sookie lived with Tray Dawson's partner, but I didn't know Cicita lived there as well. I wondered how big that suite was to house three women. Did Sookie have a room to herself?

In an effort to distract myself from that line of thinking, I analyzed Sookie's answer to Cicita's statement. She hadn't lied, she just didn't tell the whole truth. I was a little surprised myself that Sookie had slept at my place two out of the last three nights, both of which were at my initiation. She probably didn't tell Cicita because she didn't want people to assume things about her, even though I wished that there were things to assume. So did my dick.

"I told Cicita that we'd watch their Tango for a little while, is that okay?" Sookie asked as she bounced up to me. She _really_ needed to quit with all of the bouncing. I nodded and she led us over to some chairs.

After watching Cicita and Quinn run through their routine twice, I knew why they were kicking everyone else's ass in the competition. Sookie had whispered to me that Cicita was a multi-time Latin ballroom champion, and I could see that Quinn's natural strength and flexibility from his stunt work wasn't hurting either.

There was some more jumping and hugging before Sookie and I went back to our practice room. I considered addressing the fact that Sookie wasn't talking about the time we'd spent together, but decided against it. We had been having a pretty good day and the promise of a date tonight, even if it was a non-date, was reason enough not to go and fuck it up.

---

SPOV

We ran through our routine a couple times before I glanced at the clock and announced that it was time to get changed and head out. I couldn't help but get excited as I slipped into my dress. It was a completely red and ruched, with a ruffle at the top and an asymmetrical hemline made of gathers and what looked like tattered fabric from the dress. In short, it was perfect for what I had planned for tonight. After I pinned my hair back a little bit and applied a little makeup, I walked back into the hallway to meet Eric. Surprisingly enough, I beat him out.

I had just glanced down to check my nails when I heard a door swing open. I looked up to see Eric exit the dressing room. Insta-swoon. He had put on, scratch that--poured himself into-- a pair of form-fitting, low-slung jeans. _Illegally _low-slung. They were a darker wash and fit his assets perfectly. So perfectly, that I feared that seams would bust in the event that one of those assets decided to make itself more prominently known.

When I managed to pull my eyes away from his pants, I noticed that he was wearing a dress shirt in a deep maroon that had tiny black pinstripes. The top few buttons were undone, and I could see a slight smattering of blonde chest hair peeking out. He looked amazing and I couldn't help but smile when I noticed that we kind of matched.

"Great minds, they say," Eric observed as I watched his eyes scan over me. I nodded and he extended a hand to me. "So, it's quite obvious that we're not going to see a movie or anything. Care to share a hint?"

I smiled again, lacing my fingers through his. "Well, this is a dance show, so what do you think we're doing?"

"Dancing. I figured that one out, Sookie. But why did we have to get dressed up to do it?"

"Now that's the secret part, Eric. Maybe I just like seeing you all cleaned up," I teased. I lead him out to the company's Navigator where the film crew was waiting.

"Glad to finally get some shots of the two of you," Andy stated as we all climbed into the car. I made no attempts at hiding the fact that I was rolling my eyes at him. The guy was a jerk, plain and simple.

One short car ride later and we were dropped off in front of a pretty plain looking building. This was a happy fact, as Eric was still in the dark. Andy and the camera crew led the way down the nondescript hallway, flashing his press badge at the man by a door at the end. Eric shot me a look as we passed through the door.

Unable to contain my enthusiasm any longer, I indulged him. "It's a salsa club," I whispered. It was a little bit before seven, so there weren't that many patrons, but the atmosphere had already been set and I didn't think that my yelling would do anything for it.

"You've got to be shitting me," Eric whispered back.

"I would never shit you, Eric," I laughed. "We're here to practice our Cha Cha. This place has the perfect atmosphere to bring out your inner latin lover." I knew that would get him.

"You doubt my…partnering abilities?" he asked, and I wondered if I'd have to hand him a ruler or something.

"No, nothing like that. It's just that the waltz was rather far apart and this dance is a lot…closer," I replied, moving into the crowd. Yes, even though most of the dance was danced separately, the parts we interacted were a _whole_ lot closer. Too close for comfort, considering. As bad of an idea I thought it was, I knew that the crowd would eat that shit up.

Eric had followed me into the small crowd of couples, pulling me into a partnered position and leading me in our routine. A few songs later, I noticed that Andy and the other camera men had stopped filming and looked really bored. The dance floor had started to fill up too.

"Ready to blow this pop stand?" I asked as Eric pulled me up from a dip.

"Yes," he quickly replied. I frowned a little. "I really had a good time though, honestly." He smiled that damn smile of his and I perked right back up. Eric took my hand again and we were back on the road.

Once we got back to the studio, Andy and the crew left quickly, leaving Eric and I in the parking lot. Alone. This seemed to be happening a lot lately.

"So," he started.

"Yeah."

"I'll see you tomorrow, same time?"

"Uh huh."

"Excellent," Eric replied as he opened his car door.

"Bye." I opened my own door.

"Goodnight, Sookie." And he sped off. I plopped down into my own car, reminding myself for the umpteenth time that we worked together and we couldn't.

---

Practice on both Friday and Saturday was smooth and rather uneventful. We had our routine down damn near perfectly and it looked great. Let Lorena put that in her pipe and smoke it.

On Sunday, our day off, I had spent the day with my girls. Amelia's dad had sent us vouchers for a very upscale spa, a belated premiere present. We all decided to get manis and pedis to match our costumes for Monday. My costume was red, almost completely covered in sequins, with a black band that came from behind my neck, down over my breasts to my bellybutton, and around to the small of my back. The bottom of the dress ended in tassels.

_Monday is here_, I thought as I slipped my red and black bangles. I had already visited hair and makeup, and my hair was down and curled, my eyes rimmed in black with a smidge of red shadow. It was almost show time when I made it into the green room. Eric was sitting on one of the couches (thankfully wearing a shirt, a black one) talking to Quinn, who was perched on the armrest (not wearing a shirt). The spot on the couch next to Eric, the one he was currently patting, was vacant.

I sat down next to him and his arm slid down around my shoulder. I'd given up on arguing with him on things of that nature, so I let it stay there. Cicita was sitting on my left, and I turned to talk to her. She looked at me, then to Eric's arm, then back at me. I just shrugged. Cicita looked like she was about to say something, but Claudine, Sam, and Julianne came in the door from the ballroom. Almost like it came with them, the theme music cued and the flat screens came on.

"Okay, guys. Time to line up for the introduction. Sookie, Northman, you're up first," Sam read off his clipboard. I guess he kept reading names, but I tuned him out after he said we had to perform first. That was a lot of pressure, but I was confident that we could handle it. We both stood up and lead the line for the intro.

Post-intro, Eric and I remained backstage. Once we got the cue to head on stage, we took our positions. We watched the monitors as they played our footage from this week and I couldn't help but smile as I saw how much fun we had at the salsa club. I looked over at Eric and he smiled back at me.

The show came back, we were announced again, and the music started. I grabbed Eric's hand and he spun me in front of him. He moved our arms up above our heads and then back down to the dreaded ass grab. I thought I might go deaf from the screaming women.

_I know you want me,_

_You know I want ya…_

Eric spun me back into him and then dipped me down low. Then there was the series of cha-cha spins and turns.

_One, two, three, four,_

_Uno, dos, tres, cuatro…_

Then some ass-shaking on my end, some soft caressing on his end, and the crowd went wild again. More spins and turns, then an entirely-too-sexy body roll from Eric. What was I doing here, you ask? Running my hand down his chest. More screams of applause.

We entered into the solo portion of the dance, and I was feeling pretty proud of myself, plastered-on performance smile and all. After Eric and I met back up, he spun me into a slight split and then pulled me up for a dip. More solo work, which lead to some pelvis-to-pelvis grinding. I must have been hearing things, because I swore I heard Eric mutter something along the lines of "Fuck" when that happened.

We kept going, with more spins and general sexiness into the big finish. Eric grabbed me and a slid between his legs, facing down, before he pulled me back up and flipped me over into a dip. The song ended, and I felt something trail down my chest.

He better not have just done what I think he did.

* * *

**Woo, that might be the longest chapter I've ever written. Worth the wait though, right? Some sexy stuff there. Ok, I'll admit it, I deliberately chose the song to go with the dance this time. So the song and video links are on my profile, along with the instructions on how to get the desired effect. I'm especially excited about this routine, because not only is it actually from DWTS, it's Cheryl Burke (who is my favorite female dancer, which is why she had a cameo in this chappie) dancing with Gilles Marini (who's an actor, like Eric in this story, but he's also the naked guy from the Sex and the City movie…hawt!). So we have a dance that has the who female-pro, male-celeb aspect. Yay! So, next chapter: Judging and Elimination…I swear!**

**Before I go, one more thing. Some self-pimpage. It's not a story or anything, but I started another blog. I know this story is going out to mostly women, and you guys like having pretty nails, right? Yeah, me too. But I'm also a poor college student, so I do my own nails. Not trying to toot my own horn or anything, but I've gotten pretty good at it. So I decided to share my designs with the world, complete with pictures and how to paint them yourselves. If you want to check it out the link is both below and on my profile:**

**thenailphiles . blogspot . com**

**-Sydney**


	7. Hungry Eyes

**Allegro.**

* * *

**A/N: Heeeeey guys! Guess what! I haven't fallen off of the face of the earth. After an excruciatingly long almost two month lack of updates (across the board, might I add), my writer's block managed to go away long enough for me to pen this little ditty. I know it's not nearly as long as the other chapters have been, but it's also not the shortest. It's also entirely an EPOV, so that's gotta count for something, right? So this picks up right after Eric and Sookie completed their Cha Cha, and goes almost all the way through elimination. I was attempting to finish the night out, but where I stopped felt like a good place to end this chapter. For anyone who's wondering, this chapter's title is not a reference to another dance's song. I just thought that it was fitting, I really like that song, and I'm watching the episode of Family Guy where Stewie sings it at Quagmire's house.**

**Meet 'cha at the bottom. Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter Seven- Hungry Eyes**

EPOV

I could feel Sookie seething at me, even from behind her thousand-watt smile, throughout the feedback from the judges. The vice grip she maintained on my hand was another indicator. I seriously considered the well-being of my hand as all three judges praised our performance (well, as much as Lorena could 'praise'), calling us 'sexy', 'seductive', and a myriad of other synonymous adjectives. The audience applauded some more and then we headed backstage. I could tell that Sookie wanted to storm out of the green room, dragging me with her, but Julianne intercepted us.

"That was an excellent Cha Cha, guys. The judges seemed to really be into it. We'll get your scores after this break." Sookie let go of my hand the nanosecond the camera went off of us. Externally, she still looked poised and happy with our routine. Internally…well internally, I shuddered at the thought. When the cameraman announced that we were coming back on, Sookie took hold of my hand again.

"We're here with Eric Northman and his partner Sookie Stackhouse. Now to the judges for their scores on their Cha Cha," beamed Julianne.

We got a six from Lorena, and sevens from both Russell and Felipe. It was our first score in the twenties and I was pleased. Sookie, on the other hand, was dragging me out the door after the camera shifted to Julianne. Said door hadn't even closed before Sookie had shoved me up against the opposite wall. For a fleeting second, I liked where this was going.

"Eric Northman! Where the fuck do you get off touching me like that!" she screamed. I was suddenly thankful that the green room was soundproofed.

"Sookie, calm down! The audience thought it was part of the routine…and we got a twenty, that's awesome."

One-track mind, that Sookie Stackhouse. "Calm down? You're telling me to fucking calm down after you…you…molested me in front of America?"

"Ok now, molested is an awfully strong w--"

"Shut up, Eric. Just shut the fuck up." And she stomped off down the hallway. I debated going after her for a minute, but then I figured that it would better to let her cool off for a little, so I headed back into the green room.

"Trouble in paradise?" Pam observed upon my solo re-entry. She was standing off to the side, away from the cameras, with Dawson's partner.

"Something like that," I mumbled back.

"I guess she didn't like the little addition to the choreography then?" I shot Pam a look. Why I told her about my addendum, I'll never know. I thought it was a good idea, since Sookie seemed to be so into the Latin atmosphere, up until about ten minutes ago.

"I guess not," I replied, turning my attention to the couple being judged and effectively ending the interrogation. After watching two more couples perform and receive scores, I decided to go find Sookie. Since the show had gone to commercial again, nobody took notice of my exit.

I was walking down the hall toward our studio when I saw Sookie come out of the bathroom that was a couple doors down. She looked in my direction and I could tell that she had been crying. She jerked the door to our room open, flipped me the bird, and slammed it behind her. I couldn't help but smile a little at her ever-present feistiness, even while she was upset. I followed her into the studio, turning the light on that Sookie had neglected.

"Leave me alone, Eric," Sookie snapped, her back to me. Well, that wouldn't do. I walked over to where she was sitting, squatting down beside her.

"Everyone is wondering where you went in such a hurry."

"I don't care."

I squat-waddled over to Sookie's front. "I know, but I wouldn't want you to waste you time in here alone because of me."

"Just go, please."

"I will do no such thing."

"Fine. Then there is something I will do." I was confused. Then, she slapped me. On the scale, it wasn't an incredibly hard slap, but it was hard enough to make me lose my balance. So I fell on my ass. It was graceless, but it caused Sookie to regret her action. She leaned over to where I was, now, laying on the floor. "Oh my god, Eric, are you ok? Slapping you just seemed necessary, and I didn't get to do it earlier, and--"

"Do it again," I interrupted.

"What?"

"Do it again. Slap me. I kind of liked it." My face betrayed my tone and I broke out into a smile. Well, more of a smirk.

"Eric Northman, you…you ass!" Sookie brought her hand back, like she was actually going to do it, but then dropped it back to her side and sitting back on her haunches. "I thought you really got hurt."

"Well, if it's any consolation, my left cheek is a little sore." I looked up at her; it was mildly comical that 'my left cheek' referred to both the one she slapped and the one that absorbed most of my cute little fall.

"Good." Sookie tried sounding serious, but I saw a little hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. She started to get up, but I stopped her.

"Wait. I want to apologize for what happened back there. It was just a little something that I picked up from the salsa club and I thought you'd appreciate me getting into the whole Latin vibe. You already know the score regarding my attraction to you, but I can assure that my little improv wasn't meant to be teasing or malicious, or a molestation, as you put it. I'm sorry." She blotted at her eyes with the little tissue she'd brought with her. "Oh shit, I made you cry again. I'm sorry; I just won't talk any more and go back to the green room."

I stood up; Sookie followed suit. I was almost to the door when she spoke again. "Eric, I'm not mad. I mean…I was, but I'm not anymore." She dabbed at her eyes again. "I just thought that you did it to…well, it doesn't matter, because we work together." And there she went with the 'working together' thing again. She tried to move around me to the door, but I stopped her.

"You thought I did it to what, Sookie?"

"Tease me," she squeaked.

"I just told you that I didn't."

"I know. But why should I have expected anything different out of you? All you seem to do is tease me. What with your innuendos, and your…"

She was rambling, so I cut her off, "And you think you don't reciprocate?" Judging by the blank look on her face, I guess she didn't. "You look gorgeous every single day I see you. I mean, shit, Sookie…even when you're trying to turn me off, you somehow manage to look like you just rolled out of my bed. Which you now have actually done on two separate occasions." And now I was rambling. But it was necessary, because she apparently didn't know the score as well as I thought.

"Eric, I…" she started.

"Just leave it, please. I respect your 'no dating coworkers' rule, but I just wanted you to know all of that."

"So you think you can just leave me with all of that knowledge?" she asked, tone indignant.

"Your rule, Sookie, not mine." I left the studio and Sookie followed me out. We walked back to the green room in silence, but as I placed my hand on the handle, Sookie's hand grabbed my wrist.

"Tomorrow night, after elimination, you're going out with me," she stated plainly.

"Oh really now?"

Her mouth eased into a grin. "Yes. Me, my roommates, and their partners. It's the perfect way to make up for your little improv," she replied, slipping into the green room.

---

The remainder of the second performance show was relatively uneventful, barring the fact that Sookie kept glancing in my direction while we were watching the other couples. Now that was interesting. I thought nothing of it, instead allowing my thoughts to drift to whatever Sookie had planned for after elimination tomorrow. She definitely caught me off guard when she informed me of our group date, but I had to admit that I was certainly looking forward to it.

I know she said that it was to serve as my retribution for Cha-Chagate, as I'd taken to calling it, but I couldn't help but feel like spending time with me was Sookie's loophole for her 'no dating coworkers' rule. It was as if she could justify being with me if it was platonic, pretense or not. I certainly wasn't complaining, as I was becoming increasingly happier in her presence. I just hoped she didn't get as trashed as she did the last time we went out, but still ended up back at my place. I figured I had as much of a chance at that as I did lighting a match underwater, now that Sookie was caught up on my feelings for her.

So here I was, sliding into a parking space on elimination day. I was dressed pretty presentably (well, more than my standard sweats and t-shirt) in preparation for my group date with Sookie. I was hoping to find her before the show started to see if I could glean any details about our outing.

I, unfortunately, didn't find her until she came running into the green room, about two minutes before show time. She was pretty flustered and cursing Sophie-Anne under her breath, so I opted not to press her for information. I took her hand in mine instead.

"You look nice," I observed, realizing that I didn't really get a chance to compliment her sexy red outfit the night before. She really looked a whole lot more than nice, but I was afraid of getting some of the Sophie-Anne backlash if my comment got any less tame.

"Thanks," she smiled in response. That was the end of our conversation, since we were called out first in the same manner as our performance. After our little parade of sequins, the first three couples were called out. First up was JB and Tara, Cicita and Quinn, and Sophie-Anne and Bill. The lights dimmed, the music got all dramatic, and then Claudine pranced over to where the couples were standing. She proceeded to launch into a small monologue reminding the audience of the couples' performances from the previous night.

"Okay, and now for your results." More dramatic music and lighting. "Cicita and Quinn. Last night you danced the Cha Cha. America voted…" The suspense in the air was almost palpable; Cicita and Quinn were fast becoming audience favorites. "…and you are safe." Applause erupted from the audience as the couple left the stage. The little brunette bounced backstage and wrapped Sookie up into a hug. Damn them and their bouncing. I forced my attention back to the flat screen.

"Now onto JB and Tara. America voted on your Cha Cha and," Claudine paused a moment for effect, "we'll find out your fate after the break." She smiled a wicked little smile before the camera went to commercial.

After we came back from commercial, a couple of things happened before Sookie and I were called up in a group. First, JB and Tara were put in the bottom three, while Sophie-Anne and Bill were safe. Then Claude and Hadley (bottom three), Alcide and Maria-Star (safe), and Pam and Lafayette (safe) were called up and given their results. Shortly before the second group's results were announced, Sookie excused herself to the bathroom. It wasn't the fact that she needed to use the bathroom that was odd, it was that she seemed to love watching the performers and by going to the bathroom, she'd probably miss it. I just though something was off there.

A group of us moved to our reserved seats, and the lights dimmed again. I watched as Christina Aguilera was announced, and still no Sookie. The band started playing 'Candyman' (don't even ask how I knew that), and still no Sookie.

Then I found her.

Apparently 'bathroom' was code for donning a barely there red dance costume and doing a professional Jive. I was simultaneously praising whoever made that costume and cursing whoever stuck a camera on me while I was watching it cling to Sookie as she moved. There was basically a sparkly shell thing covering one of her breasts (a la Lil Kim) and a thickish strip of red fabric covering the other one. The skirt (if that's what you wanted to consider it) was also red, with a matching sparkly thing across her right hip and her ass. There were also a bunch of thin straps holding it all together, but they were basically irrelevant (as were the matching costumes the other two girls were wearing).

Watching her dance also made me thank the person who invented the Jive. I think Cheryl might have mentioned it during 'The Not-so-brief Brief History of Latin Ballroom' I was subjected to last week, but I couldn't for the life of me remember (or care). The only thing I wasn't so happy with was the fact that I couldn't touch her while she was moving like that. I didn't even care that she was dancing with another guy, because Claude was gay. I just ached to touch her.

Fucking cameras and fucking live audience. But more importantly, fucking Sookie's rule.

* * *

**Fucking Sookie's rule indeed. Haha. So next time we'll find out who gets eliminated (any guesses?) and we'll go on our group date/revenge/non-date thing (any suggestions on what they should do?). There's a link to a Candyman Jive dance that I was lucky enough to come across on YouTube (I had my mom pick the song and performer for this week's elimination, and it just so happened that there was a dance out there to match. I picked Jive because it is Sookie's best dance and it is a form of Latin ballroom), as well as a link to Sookie's costume from this kick ass dance/skating costume site. Sorry I didn't go into excruciating detail on Sookie's dress this time…Eric, being a guy, wouldn't know the technical terms of her outfit and I would think would only get the basics and how it fit her (which I think I got down pretty well)…so I'd check out the pics.**

**Oh! And I'd also like to do some plugging. If you like the fourth book, check out the following two stories: 'What It Means To Forget' and 'Dead To My World'. I beta them both and they're both fabulous "what if" stories. 'What It Means To Forget' is by Lubadub (of Danger Is A Dame fame…hey that rhymed) and is a 'what if…Eric didn't get his memories back at the end of the Witch War.' Liz is excited to be writing in canon so she can make Sookie and Eric lemons at the beginning and not have them look slutty, so you guys might wanna get on that, lol. 'Dead To My World' is by afalcone10 (author of Score!, which is also fantastic) and is a 'what if…Sookie found an amnesiac Eric running down the road, but didn't know Bill or Eric or any other vampires. It's got an alternate timeline, and it's a really unique and interesting storyline. Both ladies have the damn cutest versions of Eric sans memories. So check them out!**

**http://www . fanfiction . net/s/5668384/1/What_It_Means_To_Forget**

**http://www . fanfiction . net/s/5673341/1/Dead_To_My_World**

**Anyways, ttfn! (I swear it won't be this long between updates again!)**

**-Sydney**


	8. The Non Date

**A/N: Hey everybody. I'm back with this, and I'm really excited about this chapter. I finally started teasing via twitter, and I teased the shit out of this one, lol. So I'm just gonna shut up and let you guys read.**

**Enjoy!**

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**Chapter Eight- The Non-Date**

SPOV

I was pumped after my pros' jive. The six of us made our way backstage and dispersed to change back into our Latin Night costumes. I wandered my way into my favorite bathroom in the building after I saw that Amelia had already gone into our dressing room. It wasn't that I had modesty issues or anything, it was just that our dressing room was a glorified coat closet. Not nearly big enough for two people to use at the same time. After changing, I exited the bathroom to find a very smug looking Eric.

"Finally made it to the bathroom I see," he commented.

I smiled. "You see, about that…would you believe me if I told you I wanted it to be a surprise?"

"I figured. I was hoping it wasn't because you needed to ditch me for sexy time with Claude." Now he was smiling.

"Nope." I popped the 'p'. "Not at all. If I wanted to ditch you, I would've done it already." His face fell. I smiled wider and nudged him in the ribs. "I'm kidding, you know. Let's get back now. Faster we get this done, the faster we get to our date." I skipped off down the hall. I could hear him groan behind me.

Yeah, I'd called it a date. That was about fifty percent me messing with Eric, and about fifty percent a Freudian slip. I knew what that meant. I've read enough about psychology and I'll admit it, I wanted it to be a date.

Okay, maybe it wasn't so subconscious.

Eric joined me shortly after I entered the green room. He offered me his hand and led me to the backstage curtain. Dahlia, Jason, Amelia, and Tray were already there.

After we were called out, Dahlia and Jason were immediately notified that they were safe. Then we went to a commercial break. I nodded to Amelia, who was listening to Tray tell raunchy jokes to lighten the tension. Then I looked up at Eric; he looked distant. I shrugged and let out a big puff of air to reduce my tension.

Claudine flitted over to us when the show came back, starting into a re-intro and a monologue about Eric and myself.

"…and let's just be honest, folks. Their Cha Cha was just plain sexy." The audience started to cheer and whistle, and I could hear Eric lightly chucking behind me. "And now, their results. In last night's votes, Eric and Sookie, you guys are…safe!" More applause. I quickly looked over at Amelia before Eric could lead me off the stage and I gave her a discreet thumbs up and smile. She smiled back, so I let Eric lead me backstage.

Once we were back there, I practically ran over to Cicita, who was already in front of the flat screen, and grabbed her hand in mind. Eric sauntered over and took my other hand and squeezed it reassuringly.

We all watched as the other two couples were brought back onstage and more time wasting ensued. I wanted to scream at the screen for Claudine to just get on with it, but that would have a) done no good and; b) been incredibly embarrassing. Finally, after another commercial break and three more dance recaps (in video form), JB and Tara were announced safe.

I seriously thought that Claudine was gonna throw to another commercial, but apparently time was almost up, because she just jumped right back into it, announcing that Amelia and Tray were also safe and that Claude and Hadley were eliminated. Cicita and I screamed, threw ourselves at each other, and then threw ourselves at Amelia when she made it backstage. I half-noticed that Eric and Quinn both offered Tray a manly handshake.

After we were all clear to leave and changed, the six of us rendezvoused by the cast entrance. Eric was parked the closest to the doors and was casually leaning against his Corvette. He was wearing a tight maroon t-shirt and black jeans. He looked amazing, but then again, he always did.

---

EPOV

"So you're still not gonna fill me in?" I asked as Sookie approached the car. Everyone had paired off to travel to wherever it was we were going. Everyone seemed to be in on the date. I was out of the fucking loop, and it sucked.

"Nope, I'm not," she replied, walking around to the passenger side. She was wearing one of those long, flowy tops, which was printed with flowers, and a pair of dark wash skinny jeans. Beautiful.

Sookie slid into the car and immediately started typing away on my GPS. "Would you rather drive?" I smirked. Her level of concentration regarding the electronic device was really quite cute.

"Nope, I'm good." I nodded and started the car. A short drive (well, short for me and my lead foot) later, and we were pulling up in front of Lucky Strike Lanes.

"We're going bowling?" I couldn't help the smile that was spreading across my face. I don't know what I was expecting, but it definitely was not bowling. And I definitely wasn't complaining.

"Mhm. Cosmic Bowling, actually." Apparently Sookie was experiencing the same smiling problem, because she was openly grinning. When I came around the car, she reached out for my hand, threading our fingers. Still not complaining.

I looked around the parking lot and found Quinn's car a couple spots up from mine, and Tray's was on the other side of the row. The lot was devoid of people, though. Looking further up the lot, I spotted Quinn first, then the others. There were also a couple of photographers lurking nearby. Great. The others weren't being bothered it seemed, but I knew something was going to happen when Sookie and I approached.

"Cameras," I stated, nudging Sookie a little and pointing ahead. She tensed immediately and stopped walking. I came to a stop in front of her, my back to the building.

"We should just go," she tried. I shook my head.

"That would be letting them win. We're going to go meet our friends and have this date, or whatever the fuck it is." I smiled at her, attempting to lighten the mood. She forced a smile in response.

"But you know how to handle this kind of stuff. I could barely handle one bartender recognizing me. Paparazzi are a completely different story."

"We can do this. Do it for me?" I tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear. She tilted her head like she was considering my request and squeezed my hand. It was then that I noticed that through her whole little freak-out, she never let go of my hand. "We could go in separately, even," I suggested, since Sookie was yet to respond. Then her eyes got really big.

"No! We'll go in, but we'll go together. I wouldn't leave you by yourself with those vultures." It was all I could to not to grin like an idiot. After all of that, she was worried about me. It also seemed that she didn't want to leave me, paparazzi be damned. I nodded and we resumed our walk toward the front doors.

The paparazzi only had a few moments to react and start taking pictures, because Quinn saw me before they did and hustled everyone inside before Sookie and I even got close. Even a few moments of reaction is hundreds of pictures though. After what seemed like virtually forever, we made it inside.

What the paparazzi were doing at a bowling alley was beyond me, but then, this was no ordinary bowling alley. It was one of those ultra-trendy bowling alleys. Almost like a nightclub, really.

Once we were inside, and the rest of the group got in line, I pulled Sookie over to the side, far away from the doors. "You're a trooper, you know that?"

She giggled.

"I mean it."

She giggled again. Seemed Sookie was over her bought of stage fright.

"Shit, Sookie, I'm trying to be serious for a moment here." She looked up at me, smiling and unsuccessfully fighting another fit of giggles. "Fine, I give up. Let's go join the others." I kissed her on the cheek before walking away.

No more giggles.

I turned back to look at her once I got in line with the group. She was standing with her hand on her cheek for awhile before she notice me staring. Once that happened, she removed her hand and smiled warmly at me. I was watching her walk over when Quinn clapped me on the shoulder.

"Those paparazzi are fuckin' everywhere, man," he commented from over the top of Cicita's head, whose waist he had his arm around. I guess she didn't adhere to the same rule Sookie did. I looked ahead to Tray and Amelia. I guess neither of her roommates followed her rule.

Putting my focus back on Sookie, I stammered out an, "Uh, yeah." Quinn turned around to hand an employee his ID when Sookie made it over to me. "IDs?" I asked while she started rummaging through her tiny purse. How women fit so much shit in those things is beyond me.

"Yeah, for drinks and for the bar and club upstairs. Makes it easier all around," she responded, pulling out her ID with a triumphant look on her face. I was tempted to make some snarky comment about Sookie and drinking, but I held my tongue as we showed our IDs. Why fuck with a good thing?

We were reunited with the rest of the group after we were branded with neon orange paper bracelets. Amelia and Tray, joined at the hip, lead the way towards the rental counter. I received an amused expression from Sookie when I insisted on paying for our shoe rental. Tray, Quinn, and I split the cost of the lanes.

While the rest of us got 'suited up,' Quinn quickly disappeared, returning with a pitcher of beer and a small sleeve of Styrofoam cups. Amelia started typing in names, insisting on a battle of the sexes, putting us across from our partners. After tying her shoes, Sookie stood up and approached me.

"Balls?" she asked.

"I'm set with my own, thanks," I responded, smirking down at her. She pushed me in the chest before stepping around me and walking towards a rack of neon bowling balls. I laughed to myself and followed.

Sookie had just selected a pink ball when I slid up beside her. I picked up a ball for myself and we turned to walk back. "Do you come bowling often?" I asked.

"I guess you could say that. We use to go when I was at Julliard, and we tried to find an alley sometimes when we traveled for competitions, but I haven't been in awhile. How about you?"

"I can't say I bowl a lot." Sookie looked at me, a little crestfallen. "But I'm having fun already and we haven't even gotten started yet," I continued. Sookie's whole expression shifted; now she was beaming. I slid an arm around her shoulders and was surprised when she seemed to lean into me a little.

"Come on, Sook! Let's get started so we can kick these guys' asses," Amelia shouted when we were within earshot (which was actually pretty close, considering the loud music). Sookie giggled and pulled away from me, joining the two other girls in talking smack. "Kay, Sook, you and Eric are up first." Sookie stood up, and both girls slapped her ass, one per cheek.

Let the games begin.

We both stepped up to bowl. I motioned to Sookie, saying, "Ladies first." She stuck her tongue out at me, but rolled anyway, knocking down seven pins. Her second shot earned her a spare. I couldn't help it, I clapped for her and offered a smile. She blew me a kiss and giggled back to the other girls.

I took my shots, which ended up being an eight and a gutter. The rest of the game proceeded pretty much the same way, with the guys sucking ass and the girls bowling miraculously. I was starting to pick up on something by the end of that game. After we took our final shots in the tenth frame, I pulled her over to the side while the others finished.

"I thought you said you hadn't bowled in awhile."

She smiled an up-to-something smile. "I haven't. It's been at least a year." She was still smiling.

"Sookie, you bowled a 190. Something tells me that your bowling wasn't just an occasional thing."

"We just went practically every weekend at school, and then pretty much every city we competed in. It is just a hobby, Eric." Still smiling. I looked up at my barely-over-a hundred score, then back to Sookie.

"You little hustler," I stalked towards her, smiling. She started giggling when I grabbed her around the waist and started tickling. I let her go after a couple minutes, but I kept one arm on each side of her, braced against the high top table behind her. She was breathing heavily from laughing, and I couldn't stop staring at her lips.

"Hey guys, ready to go up to the club?" Amelia asked all of a sudden, causing Sookie to stiffen and move out from under my arms. She nodded at Amelia and we headed for the stairs to the club. As their reward for winning, the guys and I paid their cover for the club. Not like we wouldn't have anyway.

The nanosecond we moved through the threshold, Sookie grabbed Cicita and Amelia and bused them off to the dance floor. I looked over at Quinn and Tray, who just shrugged. "Drinks?" Tray proposed. We maneuvered our way to the bar, where I got another beer for myself and a soda for Sookie. She'd had a cup of beer while bowling, but that was at the beginning, and she started to look at it unhappily the rest of the game. I figured she might have been recalling our last experience with me, her, and alcohol.

Leaving the other guys at the bar, I made my way over to the crowd on the dance floor. I found the girls almost at the edge of the throng, putting on a little show. Sookie caught my eye when she looked up at the riser I was standing on. I smiled at her and she put her finger up in a 'one minute' gesture, smiling back.

Once the song had finished, Sookie made her way up to me while the other girls went to the bar. "Hey you," she smiled as she joined me. I took a drink of my beer and Sookie eyed the cup in my other hand.

"I got you a soda," I said, handing it to her. She smiled appreciatively before taking a sip. We stood there in silence for a little while, just sipping our drinks and watching people. I felt something touch my arm and I looked down to see Sookie with her hand on my bicep.

"Do you want to dance?" she asked, putting her empty cup on a nearby table. I followed suit and allowed her to pull me out onto the dance floor. The song that was playing was 'Carry Out' by Timbaland. Sookie slid her hands up my chest before bringing them to rest on my shoulders; I placed my on her hips, which had just started to move to the music. We continued in that position for a few beats, but it wasn't long before Sookie turned herself around.

Then it got dirtier.

She pressed her ass into me, which my cock immediately responded to, and I pulled her closer into me. Sookie responded by arching her back a little, putting one hand on my neck behind my head. My hands slid further around her front, and I was holding her almost indecently, but that didn't seem to deter her. She continued to grind into me as she used her hand on my neck to pull me down to her level. Once I was where she wanted me, she craned her neck up to kiss me. It was slow, ultra-satisfying kiss, but it ended far too soon.

"There you guys are," Cicita shouted over the music, a couple paces in front of us. These interruptions were becoming too frequent.

"Yeah," Sookie laughed nervously. "We were just about to go for a walk." Cicita responded with a look that said, 'yeah, right.'

"Okay. See you later then." She smiled at us before pulling Quinn further into the crowd.

I followed Sookie outside of the club and over to a wall, which I promptly pinned her up against, going back for another kiss. Sookie's hands found their way into my hair as she moaned against my mouth, granting my tongue access.

"Come home with me," I murmured, pulling away from the kiss.

"Too fast…bad idea," she stumbled, trying to pull me back down to her. I could feel the heat radiating off of her in waves, just from my hand on her waist.

"I just want you with me." She smiled up at me. "I don't tell too many people this, but I have a bit of a cuddling infatuation."

"So you're trying to tell me that you want me to come home with you so we can…cuddle?"

"Exactly."

"Deal."

"What?"

"I said deal. You have a deal."

"I do?" I was shocked. Floored, even.

"You do. Now let's get out of here." She smiled at me, sliding out of my grasp once again.

* * *

**Wah nah nah. What do you think's gonna happen next? Let me know. Once again, sorry this took so long, I really need to get on some kind of rotation with the updates. Good news though, I started writing the next chapter of Backbeat today, so we should be in business with that soon.**

**I also started a wordpress to post my stories on. It's chiisaikitty . wordpress . com with out the spaces of course. Also, wanna chat? Get teasers? Come follow me and the other lovely writers on Twitter. I'm chiisai_kitty.**

**Oh, and the playlist has been updated. Link's on my profile :)**

**-Sydney**


	9. Let Go

**A/N: Hey guys! A couple things of note before I get into the chapter, cause I know y'all want me to shut up and get on with it. I was asked a question in the last chapter's set of reviews; Moushee2's asked a question re: Sookie's virginity. I wrote her back, but I thought I'd share my answer here too, in case anyone was curious. No, Allegro Sookie doesn't have her v-card. As to the swiper of said card, I have no clue, but let's just assume she either lost it sometime at Julliard or on the pro circuit. Allegro Sook isn't telepathic, so I'm working off the assumption that if she isn't, she would have been able to make a connection with a guy at an earlier point in her life. This was also the first time that someone asked about that, lol.**

**Second point, no one asked or anything, but I'd thought I'd share a little bit about the bowling alley they went to in the last chapter. There is an actual bowling alley in L.A. that I googled. It really is called Lucky Strike Lanes, and it's pretty fancy as far as bowling alleys go. But, it's no where near as fancy as the bowling alley I fashioned the interior after. The interior of the lanes was modeled after a bowling alley I've actually been to called the Firkin, which is in Orlando, FL. It does have a club upstairs, and it's one of the coolest bowling alleys I've ever been to. They have a bar, a full restaurant, mini bowling, and a bunch more. And they have a website: http://www .firkinkeglercenter .com/**

**Ok, that was longer than I anticipated. But I'm done. So, on with the show!**

**Enjoy!**

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**Chapter Nine- Let Go**

True to his word, Eric and I returned to his apartment and cuddled. I woke up the next morning, before him, and wandered out into the kitchen, hoping to repay the breakfast favor. After rummaging around in the fridge for a minute, I started scrambling eggs and frying bacon.

I had just plated the food and started pouring some orange juice when Eric emerged from his bedroom, laptop in hand. He looked so cute, all disheveled and sleepy.

"Sleep well?" I asked, passing him his plate of breakfast.

"Always," he replied, shooting me a lopsided grin. He then began eating eggs and messing with his Mac simultaneously.

I sat on the stool across from Eric at the island. "Something good going on today?" I gestured to the laptop. He'd never brought it out any of the other times I'd been at his place.

"Quite the contrary, well, depending on how you wanna look at it. My publicist texted me." He slid the computer around, revealing a popular gossip website.

'_Will Their Next Dance Be The Horizontal Mambo?'_ was written in trendy font, and loomed over an enlarged photo that I wasn't even aware had been taken; Eric kissing me on the cheek after we made it inside the bowling alley. Under that was a line noting who we were, which was followed by two smaller pictures of us walking in, holding hands. Then there was an article, which I didn't even want to begin to read. I looked up at Eric, who was watching me carefully, bacon in mouth.

"Did you read the article?" I asked, unsure of what to say.

He nodded, "It's mostly about us being on the show and being partners. They bring up the club sighting, as well as my past with various women. It wasn't really the article I was worried about, so much as the pictures…well, picture." I nodded; I knew which one was the 'money shot.'

"There's not much we can do about it now, is there?" Eric shook his head. I continued, "I'm just a little worried about what people at work will think, if they've seen it."

"They've seen it," Eric supplied. My heart sank. I'd gone on a whole campaign about not dating co-workers…and Alcide…God, and now this. Eric spoke again, pulling me out of my headspace. "The network has people who check for all the shows' publicity." He must have noticed the look on my face. "We can either tackle it head on, or deal with it if people ask."

"I'd rather deal with it as people ask, if that's alright. I'd rather not draw anymore attention to the subject."

"Of course, whatever you wanna do." He smiled at me as he gathered our breakfast plates. I shut his Mac down before helping him wash the dishes. "Shall we head off to practice?" I nodded, and we were off.

This week on the show would be the first week we'd have to learn two dances. The first part would be 'classic ballroom'¾either foxtrot or quickstep¾and the second part would be a marathon hustle, where each couple would dance against the others, much like the marathon dances during the Depression. The first person eliminated would get three bonus points, the next would get four, and so on until the winner was declared. That couple would gain an extra ten points added to their score.

I hadn't told Eric about the two dance thing yet, and with everything that happened this morning, I wasn't sure when a good time to spring it on him would be.

We just happened to pass Cheryl on the way to our room. "Are you guys excited to do two dances this week?" she beamed, handing me a burned CD.

Eric slid an arm around my shoulders, pulling me quite abruptly to him, smoldered at Cheryl, and replied, "Of course." Cheryl blushed before smiling back at both of us and continuing down the hall.

"Two dances? Why am I learning about this from Cheryl?" he whispered smoothly in my ear, his breath tickling my neck.

I shivered and tried to pull away. He let me, a little. "So much going on this morning, didn't find time to tell you." Apparently, that answer sufficed, because he pulled away, kissing me on the head.

"So what do we got this week?" he asked once we got into our practice room.

"Um…" I pulled out the slip of paper that was in the CD case "…foxtrot. With Louis and Edita."

I rolled up the legs on my sweatpants a little bit, using the elastic band to hold them in place; we'd stopped by my hotel and I'd changed into sweats and a sports bra. Five minutes went by, and still no sign of Louis or Edita, so I decided to pop the CD into the stereo. The smooth sounds of Frank Sinatra lilted through the speakers.

"I guess when they say classic, they really mean it," Eric commented. He moved over towards me, pulling me into a starting position. I couldn't help but notice the way that his muscles moved during the action; I could see them much more clearly since he was wearing a tank top. God.

Eric started moving us in a little box step, pausing to spin me around every so often. "That's cute, but not quite a foxtrot," an accented female voice commented. Eric had just dipped me, so I was looking upside down at the smiling faces of Louis and Edita. I giggled, and he pulled me upright.

"Sorry we're late. We had to finish Sophie-Anne and Bill's lesson since she bitched out Maks and he refused to work with her," Louis apologized. Eric and I exchanged a glance.

"It's okay, we know how difficult she can be," I replied while Eric barked out a laugh. Difficult was indeed an understatement. "So what are we working with here?"

The rest of the week was a blur. From talking to Amelia and Cicita, I gathered that every couple had a classic song, and most were Sinatra, like ours. We also found out that all the guys were to be dressed in classic tuxedos and all of the girls were wearing long, beautiful dresses. Mine was a delicate champagne color, with silvery embellishments. Even though it was a long dress, it had some very sexy cutouts in the front and the back. I liked it a lot.

Our hustle dresses, on the other hand, were a closely guarded secret. There was even a rumor perpetuating that these were the dresses that Tara had designed. This was the main reason I was in such a hurry to get to wardrobe. When I got there, however, there was a notice taped to the door:

**Attention: All contestants, please report to the green room; we have a slight change in program tonight.**

Well, if that wasn't the most cryptic memo. I felt someone come up behind me and arms circled my waist. Eric.

"What's it say?" he asked.

"Report to the green room. Something's changing tonight."

"I'm hoping so." I narrowed my eyes a little; I had a feeling he wasn't talking about a change in the program. We'd been spending an awful lot of time together over the last few days. No more unfortunate paparazzi incidents though, thank God. I pulled away from him when I felt his lips make contact with my temple.

"Just, uh, just go find out what the change is. I'll see you at showtime," I fumbled, and darted into the wardrobe room. He didn't follow me in, so I figured I was in the clear.

I still had no clue what the program change was by the time I made it into the green room. I'd gotten dressed before everyone else, gotten my hair and makeup done before everyone else, and then I stayed in our practice room for some much needed alone time. The mood in the room was interesting. It was split between people talking about counts and people panicking. I also couldn't find Eric for a moment.

As I crossed the room, I was met with a dirty look from Sophie-Anne, which was not surprising, as well as a disappointed one from Alcide. I guess Eric was right about everyone seeing that article. I looked away from him and walked over to where my partner was standing with Pam and Lafayette, one of the couples who were going over counts.

"Damn, Sookie, there you are! I wish you would've come with me to that meeting." I gave him a confused look. "They changed our song."

"What do you mean? Can they do that?" Now I understood why some people were freaking out. I was close to joining them myself.

"Apparently they can, and they did. Sam said it was something about the higher-ups not wanting to put people off with all of the old school stuff. So they added some contemporary songs."

"And we're one of them?"

"Yes. Us, Amelia and Tray, Dahlia and Jason, and Quinn and Cicita." I looked around again. Yep, the ones freaking out.

"Well, I, uh," grasping for straws here, "we, uh, we know the counts, right?" I forced a smile. Pam and Lafayette had moved away at this point, probably in fear of my impending freak out. If my music was safe, I'd be moving away from the crazy people too.

"Of course we do," Eric smiled at me reassuringly. "We practiced every day, and you made us practice whenever we saw each other outside the studio." Oh yes, right. That was my justification for spending so much extracurricular time with Eric.

"Yeah, you're right." My shoulders slumped a little. "So they just like, gave you a new song?"

"Something like that." Eric looked like he wanted to say something else, but the opening music of the show started, and we filed out by couple shortly after that. We were unfortunately first again this week. Eric lead me out onto the floor as our names were announced. This whole thing was starting to feel pretty familiar, but the fact that I had no idea what song was going to come out of that band had me a bit on edge.

"Let go," Eric whispered right before the song started. I fought the confused look that was threatening to corrupt my face. As the song started, and we started to dance, I understood Eric. It was the name of the song.

_so let go, jump inoh well, whatcha waiting forit's alright'cause there's beauty in the breakdown_

We thankfully completed our foxtrot without a mistake. Well, without a music-induced mistake. Eric tucked me into his side as we faced the judges. Both Lorena and Russell gave us the same scores as last week (a six and a seven, respectively), and they both gave us pretty neutral critiques. The audience waited on baited breath to see was Felipe had to say; he was infamous for his racy comments.

"Well, Northman, that was no horizontal mambo, but it was certainly entertaining." Oh. My. God. Someone, anyone please…kill me now. I'm sure my face was the shade of Arlene's hair, times like…a million. The audience gave a loud gasp (with some snorts) and Felipe sat down with a "Seven."

I yanked Eric offstage and through the green room faster than I thought was humanly possible. I didn't stop until we'd made it to our studio.

"This has to stop," I whispered. I sat down on the hardwood floor in a pool of silk.

"What, Sookie?" Was he serious?

"This," I hissed, gesturing between the two of us. "The togetherness."

"We're partners, Sookie. We can't just not see each other."

I made an exasperated noise that was somewhere between a snort and a sigh. "I know that. No more me at your house or any of that stuff."

Eric squatted down in front of me. "All because of what one stupid gossip column said, excuse me, lied about?"

"Felipe…national television." I was starting to whisper again. Or maybe it was more like a wheeze.

"Felipe always talks shit. It just happened to be our shit he was talking about this week." He smiled. I knew he was just trying to make me feel better, but it wasn't helping.

"It's not just him. Alc, uh, everyone is looking at me differently."

"What the fuck does Alcide have to do with anything?" Oh, so he caught that.

"Nothing. He just asked me out before the show started, and I turned him down because of my rule. He was a lot less persistent than you," I added the last part, almost to myself.

"So you pissed off one guy, Sookie. I'm sure you've done it before. I mean, look at you." He directed my face toward the mirrored wall, brushing a strand of hair out of my face. Eric's eyes followed mine. "Stunning."

I opened my mouth only to have him shut it. "Cut the bullshit, Sookie. There's something more to this partnership whether you want to acknowledge it or not. Let go, damn it!" He started to move to get up, but I grabbed onto his forearm, keeping him in place.

I didn't know why it kept coming back to this; Eric pushing the envelope, me refusing, then Eric complaining, but ultimately backing off. I had no clue why he put up with me, I just knew I couldn't let him leave.

"I can't let anything interfere with my time on the show," I murmured, voicing my deepest fear.

"Nothing will."

"You don't know that."

"I'm your partner, and I can't stay away from you." I have expected him to start singing Journey, which would've been funny if it wasn't such a tense moment. "And I'm sure we could keep up with the extra practicing," he continued, giving me a smile and a wink.

"I don't know." Why was I still arguing? Fuck, _I_ was about to start my Steve Perry impression, because Eric was making me forget about everything I thought I believed in. Why did I have that rule again?

"I do." _He does? He does what?_ I wondered, still in my own headspace. _Oh! He knows, that's what he does._ I was thoroughly confused at this point, trying to sort through all of the emotions I was feeling.

Eric, however, was less confused, and knew exactly what he wanted. So, he kissed me.

I leaned into him as he steadied himself on his knees in front of me. We kissed quickly a few times, Eric's hands sliding up into my hair. He glanced at our reflection again before tilting my head and trailing his mouth down my neck.

Once he made it to the junction of my neck and shoulder, he began to lean me back towards the floor. He slowly moved back up to my mouth, sliding his tongue across my bottom lip before slipping it in to meet my own. I moaned into his mouth as he got closer to me, sliding his large hand up my leg. He hitched it up around his waist, bucking his hips against me, causing delicious friction.

"Eric, the door." I watched his eyes move over to the door before he returned his gaze to me and nodded. He swiftly got up and strode over to lock it before returning to me on the floor and resuming his earlier position. Eric connected our lips again, his hands moving to hem of my dress, which was now almost up around my hips. Reaching around me, he eased the zipper down and unhooked the strap in the middle of my back. He moved his hands back around, helping me shimmy out of the top of the gown.

Eric looked mighty happy with my lack of bra as he took in my naked torso. He smiled as he bent his neck to one of my breast, flicking the nipple with his tongue. I shuddered all over as I tried to push his tuxedo jacket off him. I managed to get it over his shoulders and he shrugged it the rest of the way off. He disconnected from me long enough to undo the many, tiny buttons on his vest and crisp, white shirt. I probably would've ripped them all.

Once he finished with that, I grabbed at the waistband of his slacks, undoing them successfully and sliding them over his hips, revealing black silk boxer briefs. He kicked them off as he leaned me back onto the hardwood. I gasped a little at the sudden change of position, not to mention the coolness of the floor, and Eric slipped his tongue into my now-open mouth. Making a sigh of contentment, I told my inhibitions where to go and focused on the task at hand. He slid up next to me, hovering almost, and began kissing my shoulders and working down. Once he reached my naval, he paused briefly to pull my dress down and off the rest of my body. My panties quickly followed.

"Beautiful," he commented, and I felt my face enflame in a five-alarm blush. He leaned back down to nuzzle my neck as his fingers danced down my stomach before disappearing between my thighs. My back arched off the studio floor as two of Eric's thick fingers probed me. Apparently satisfied with my readiness, Eric slid his large hands under my back, lifting me up before he buried himself inside me. I wasn't even aware that he'd lost the boxers.

As soon as he was in me completely, his lips found mine again. I easily parted my lips and let him in, our tongues mingling. As he moved in and out, I was trying really hard not to scream my satisfaction, seeing as the room was very echo-y and anyone could be walking by for all we knew.

Eric got up further on his knees, pulling me closer to him, angling my hips. I let out a long, loud moan. "Fuck," I muttered, and Eric seemed to concur. He lifted my left leg, hooking my ankle over his shoulder. Eric then increased his thrusts and my head lolled to one side as I tried to suppress another shriek. As I continued to face the mirrored wall, I quickly became aware that I could Eric entering and withdrawing from the way he was holding my leg up. Watching him fuck me was quickly taking me to a whole new level of excitement.

Eric must have noticed me watching him, because he soon shifted us so that he was facing the mirror and my lower half was raised up further. There was suddenly a rolled up mat under my head, and I was being reclined even further back. I was looking back into the mirror, upside down, but I had a better view of Eric's cock driving into me. I looked back up to the real Eric¾the view from that angle was pretty spectacular as well¾and he was smirking at me.

"Like that, do you?" he asked, continuing to thrust, moving harder even. I managed to nod a little and squeak in the affirmative. Eric growled and slid his hands from my hips up to my breasts, then around and under, lifting me up against him. He switched his rhythm, bouncing me on his dick. I screamed out at the change in angle, I couldn't help it. I craned my neck around to the mirror again, moaning as I watched him continuously disappearing within me.

I saw his head vanish and I turned back around in time to see his beautiful lips wrap around one of my nipples. He bit down a little, and I groaned, feeling the slow burn start to simmer down below.

"I'm close, Eric. So fucking close." I clutched at his upper arms, feeling them flex as he continued to lift me up and slam me down. My inner muscles clenched and Eric growled again.

"Come for me, Sookie," he whispered, and I lost it. I screamed out one final time, shuddering and holding on to him for dear life as I rode out my climax. Eric followed closely behind me, continuing to fuck me as he released in long spurts on each thrust. Once he was spent, he leaned back, hugging me to his chest as he placed kisses along my hairline.

I snuggled against him further, tracing my fingers over his chest, and then I heard something on the other side of the room.

_Do the Hustle!_

It was my phone. I'd set an alarm earlier to tell me when it was close to Hustle time in case I lost track of time on break. Well, I never in a million years thought I'd be needing that alarm to bust me out of a state of post-coital bliss. My head snapped up. I looked over to where the phone was, then at Eric, then back towards the phone.

"Oh my God. Eric! We still have to go dance in the marathon! We have to change! We have to¾" Eric pressed his lips to mine, cutting me off mid-sentence.

"And we will," he answered when he pulled away. He pulled us both to our feet, helping me back into my dress and handing me my panties. He then quickly pulled his pants and jacket back on. I darted over to the door, checking the hall. It was clear, so we quickly dashed across to the bathroom.

Eric grabbed a paper towel, wet it, and tenderly cleaned me up, and then himself. I gave him a kiss on the cheek once I pulled my panties on and righted myself. I knew that we had a lot to talk about, but it had to wait for now.

* * *

***passes out candy cigarettes (smoking is bad, m'kay?)* So, that was fun. I'm pretty pleased with this chapter, even though it feels like it took forever to pen. I was having smut block, I guess. Big thanks to KiraKiralina and Lubadub for helping me remedy that. Also, I have to give credit to my girl Lubs for providing me with the gossip column headline. She's the bomb.**

**A quick note about something I know someone is going to ask about: protection. I was trying to work it in somewhere in there, but I honestly couldn't without interrupting the flow. Let's just operate on the assumption that Sookie is on the pill. A lot of dancers that I know are, as well as most young women. I personally fully believe in using both methods, but this was a spontaneous thing, and it wasn't like Eric was carrying a wallet. This isn't a fic about babies or STDs, and it's also a story, and not a perfect world, and shit happens. Well, that was a fun note to end my PSA on, lol.**

**Next up on the rotation is Backbeat, and we've got some serious questions to answers there, so ciao for now!**

**-Sydney**


	10. Hustle and Flow

**A/N: Hey everybody! I feel like such a shit for leaving it where I did. I was originally going to include the hustle round, but then I decided that I couldn't be all, first time sex scene, now…hustle! So here we are. Anywho, I'm going to shut up now and get on with it.**

**Chapter Ten- Hustle and Flow**

* * *

EPOV

As Sookie darted out of the bathroom like her ass was on fire, I started to wonder if I had just hallucinated for the last half hour. I looked down at myself, my pants still open and askew, dick hanging out. Nope, not imagining things. After tucking myself back in, I washed up and headed out of the bathroom.

In my two moments of self-reflection, Sookie had taken off down the hallway and was nowhere in sight. I knew that we had to get changed for the competition Hustle, but I felt like we still really needed to talk. Was she okay? Did she regret it? Shit, I was starting to sound like a chick. But I couldn't get those fucking questions to vacate my brain.

Somehow I ended up in front of Wardrobe, which was great I suppose, considering it was where I was supposed to be. It was also where I thought I might find Sookie. I took two steps in and looked around. No Sookie in sight.

"Looking for Sookie?" The hair and makeup head, Arlene, came around the corner of a rack of costumes. They'd moved everyone into the biggest department for the quick change. I nodded. "You just missed her. Flew in and out of here like a bat outta hell," she paused to tuck a comb into her apron. "I think she was headed for the green room though. Get into your Hustle costume and then come see me. Your hair is all effed up." I nodded again and went to seek out my costume. I found it next to an empty garment bag that had Sookie's name on it.

I opened my bag to discover a blue leisure suit. And not like, navy blue. Blue like a blueberry. Lighter blue shirt to match. As I stepped into the bellbottoms, I felt deeply relieved that I was only a toddler during the 70s.

"Those pants make your ass look fantastic," I heard a voice drawl as I stepped out from behind the curtain of the improvised changing room. Sophie-Anne was sitting in a makeup chair that was directly facing the changing rooms. As I turned in her direction, she winked at me and inappropriately uncrossed and recrossed her legs, her purple sequined dress riding up.

"Um…thanks," I replied, moving past her as quickly as was humanly possible. I felt her eyes on me until I closed the door behind me. Then it was almost as if I could feel her gaze trying to bore its way through the wood. I leaned back against the door for a moment and shuddered. The only person I wanted thinking about my ass was the one person I couldn't seem to find at the moment.

I was about to head to the green room when I realized that I'd walked out without letting Arlene comb my sex hair into submission. Not wanting to deal with the queen bee again, I walked over to the bathroom two doors down from the green room. After making due with tap water and my fingers, and determining that it would stay once dry, I finally made my way over to the green room.

Sookie was sitting by herself on a couch that was set away from the cameras and all of the action. She was stunning in a sequined minidress made out of some sort of clingy material. It had one long sleeve and the other side was sleeveless. The dress was the same blue as my leisure suit. Sitting down next to her, I looked around the room and noticed that all of the couples were matching sets of colors.

"Are—"

"_And now, our eight couples will compete in a marathon hustle,"_ came the announcer's voice. Sookie stood up abruptly, grabbed my hand, and led the way to stage.

The format of the marathon hustle was pretty simple: all eight couples shake their groove thing, hustle-style, and last team standing earns ten extra points. The seven other couples get bonus points in decreasing order, based on when they're eliminated. First couple out gets three points, and so on. The eliminations would be decided by the judges.

When we got out onto the stage, Sookie and I took our designated place, which was up near the steps that led to the dais where the band sat. The music of that oh-so-famous 'Do the Hustle' song started, and we began our well-rehearsed steps. The first part of the dance was the same for all of the couples and it was, yup, you guessed it, the actual Hustle. All sixteen of us disco line danced on national TV until we'd made a complete rotation. Then the competition was on.

I spun Sookie to me, and we began what she'd previously informed was known as 'Night Club Hustle.' It was basically some ballroom steps, some disco pointing and shaking, and a lot of hamming it up for the audience. There was even the obligatory solo, with me standing still and doing some more disco pointing and Sookie shaking her stuff in a circle around me. I was Travolta-ing it up, attempting not to become mesmerized by Sookie's ass, as I had many a time during practice.

Yup, this is me playing it cool in my leisure suit.

The first couple to be eliminated was JB and Tara, and that occurred while Sookie and I were in the middle of doing one of those back and forth shimmies. Next came Dahlia and Jason, followed by Alcide and Maria-Star, both while we were doing some synchronized solo discoing. Sophie-Anne and Bill were the next to go, with Sophie-Anne stopping mid-egg beater and stomping off stage.

No one ever accused her of being a good sport.

After them came Pam and Lafayette, who danced their way offstage, even stopping to bow before they disappeared. I laughed a bit at their display before spinning Sookie. Then it was down to the final three.

Cicita and Quinn were the first to be voted off, but only because they were caught doing a lift. Amelia and Tray, and Sookie and I had a little dance off for the next minute or so. Sookie gave me a quick little nod, and I took that as my signal to do our little finish. I spun her around into a dip, where she kicked her leg up by her head, then gracefully rolled out of my arms as I moved back up, landing in a split. The crowd went _wild_.

"And the winner of the competition Hustle is…Eric and Sookie!" exclaimed Claudine, who appeared out of thin air. I looked over at Tray and Amelia, who were standing in their own finishing pose, Tray all disco-y and Amelia leaning against him with her own leg kicked up. I barely had time to help Sookie off the floor before they had come over and group hugged us.

I barely noticed anything that happened after that, because that was when I realized that Sookie had one of her fake smiles plastered on her face. Even when she looked at me.

* * *

Everything after that went pretty quickly; the overall scores were flashed, the recaps were played, and then we were freed to go home. We walked back to our practice room, Sookie five steps in front of me. Once inside, I grabbed my bag and leaned back against the closed door.

"About earlier…" I started.

"We, uh…we can't do that again."

I'm not gonna lie, I was thinking we were. Maybe not right now, but in a general, eventually, kind of sense.

"You thought what?"

Fuck, I'd said that out loud, hadn't I?

"You heard me," I replied. "Doesn't matter the circumstances of how it happened." Well that was kind of a lie, the circumstances were a lot. "It happened. You liked it, I liked it. I like you. I don't see the problem."

"_This _was stuck this on my hustle costume's garment bag. _This_ is a problem." She thrust something at me. I looked down; it was a printout of our 'horizontal mambo' tabloid story.

Shit.

"Sookie, be reasonable. You already knew about and have seen the article."

"Be reasonable? I feel like people _know_. Everybody already thought we were doing it, before we were even doing it. I mean, did it. Past tense. Whatever." She sat down on the stack of mats and then abruptly stood back up. "Ugh! I can't be in here with you right now." Pushing past me, she opened the door.

"Sookie, wait," I called after her, following her out and down the hall. Since my legs are longer than hers, I caught up in no time. I slipped my hands gently over her shoulders and she spun around to face me.

"We're…" she started, before she saw Dahlia walking towards us. The redhead waved before ducking down another hallway. "We're…not discussing this here." She started walking again.

"Then where," I lowered my voice, "can we discuss it? Because we sure as hell are going to discuss it."

"Get changed and meet me in the parking lot. We can go to my hotel."

* * *

I changed rather quickly, as I wasn't sure if Sookie was going to change her mind and leave without me. I was leaning up against her car when she exited the building, now dressed in jeans and a Julliard t-shirt.

We wordlessly got into her car and pulled out of the parking lot. The drive to Sookie's hotel was equally as quiet. Once we arrived, she pulled around into the guests' parking structure. As we made the trip up to her suite, she once again surprised me by gingerly sliding her hand into mine. I made no effort to hold her hand tightly, settling only to hold lightly, as I didn't want to freak her out.

Once Sookie unlocked the door, the first thing I noticed was that the lights were off and nobody was home. She flipped on a light and flung her purse onto the counter before walking over to a huge beige couch and plopping down. I hung my jacket over a chair and followed her.

"My roommates are…also with their partners. I uh, I'm by myself here quite frequently." I wondered where she was going with this.

"I…"

"They fuck their partners, no one says a damn thing. I fu…I go bowling with mine, and it's national news."

"It was an internet gossip blog. That's hardly national news."

"They might as well have posted it on a fucking billboard." This was the most I'd ever heard Sookie curse. "Felipe saw it, and then he had to go run his big, dumb mouth. And _on the show_ of all places!"

"And then we had sex."

"And then we had…I'm quite aware we had sex, Eric, thank you."

"I was just making sure that you were aware that _we_ had sex. Me and you. Not Felipe, not Perez Who-the-fuck-cares, and certainly not the rest of ballroom dance-loving America. Us."

"I know who was involved," she argued.

"No, I'm not sure you really do. We had sex because we're attracted to each other, Sookie. Who gives a flying fuck what other people are saying, or speculating, or posting on the goddamn internet?"

"I do," she replied in a small voice.

I slid off the couch and onto my knees in front of her. "Answer me something…do you like me?"

She arched her eyebrow at me. "I think you know the answer to that."

"I want to hear it," I prompted, placing a hand on her thigh.

"Yes, Eric, I like you."

"That's all I need to know." I leaned up and kissed her softly. "And I like you, Sookie Stackhouse."

* * *

SPOV

How the hell could Eric be so calm about all of this? I mean, there I was, coping with the unexpected (yet completely wonderful) surprise of Eric and I having sex, and I find that someone taped that gossip article to my garment bag. I just can't handle the whispering that I just know is going on, and if I can't trust the people who we're supposed to be forming a 'show family' with, then how am I supposed to face all the rest of the negativity that I just know will be coming my way?

I looked down at Eric, who was still kneeling on the carpet in front of me. He makes such a compelling argument against my insecurities. "We'll have each other. We'll figure the rest out as we go," he continued, smiling up at me.

I nodded slowly at him. "Stay with me tonight. Help me block the world out." I grabbed his hands and he stood up, pulling me with him. He followed me into my bedroom, where we simply crawled into bed fully clothed, and fell asleep huddled together, holding hands.

* * *

I woke up the following morning to an empty bed. Well, an empty bed, a steaming mug of coffee, and the telltale sound of water running. _Glad Eric's making himself at home_, I thought as I sat up and stretched. Sleeping in jeans wasn't a very good idea. The coffee, however, was fantastic.

I was swinging my legs over the side of the bed when I heard the bathroom door open. I looked up to see Eric propped up against the doorway, wearing a hotel-issued fluffy black robe. "Great, you're awake. I just finished setting up a bath for you. Oh, and I hope you don't mind, but I borrowed the robe from the door," his hand slid up to the collar of the robe in question. "My clothes are in the dryer as we speak." It was more like as he spoke. He hadn't taken a breath since I looked up at him.

"It's fine. Perfect, actually," I replied, standing up and stretching again. Eric moved slightly to the side as I approached the bathroom door, and I slid past him. "You set this up for me?" I asked, looking at the simmering, soapy water, and then back to Eric. Apparently, his earlier words had not clicked in my brain yet.

"Uh, yeah." He had his hands stuffed in the pockets of the robe, and was trying to divide his gaze between me and the tile floor. "It's lavender."

"I love it. Thank you." I gave him the biggest smile I could muster during the morning. He smiled back before leaving the bathroom and closing the door behind him. I slid into the water with a groan; the bath was fan-freaking-tastic.

I stared at the door for a long while as I was soaking, long after the most thoughtful man I knew had walked out of it. I also couldn't help but think about the talk Eric and I had had the night before. I had no clue why I cared so much about what everyone else was saying/thinking/writing about me and Eric, I just knew that I did. I also knew that the more that I was around Eric, the less I was starting to care.

As I pulled my hand out of the water to rest on the side of the tub, I noticed how pruny it had gotten. I guess it was time to get out. I felt around for a towel, and that was when I remembered that I'd used the last towel yesterday, and we were on that whole 'going green' thing with the hotel, so we did get new ones unless we asked for them specifically.

Fuck.

"Um…Eric?" I called out.

"Yeah?"

"I…I kinda need a towel."

"Shit," I heard him mutter. "There's ah…none in there?"

"Nope. You can steal one from other bathroom." When we arrived in L.A., Cicita, Amelia and I drew straws for the room with the en suite. I won. Not like it mattered anyway, since they were never here.

I heard the bed creak, and then a couple minutes later there was a knock on the door. "Come on in. You successfully coated this tub in bubbles." It was more at a froth now, but I was still mostly covered. Eric made his way in, depositing the towel on the closed toilet seat behind me. I couldn't help but blush at the approving sweep he made over the tub.

"I'll just let you get back to your bath then." He smiled and backed out of the bathroom. I did a quick rinse in the shower before toweling off and grabbing my own robe.

Eric was reclined on the bed, watching something on TV, when I emerged from the bathroom. He was already redressed in the clothes he'd worn the night before, minus the button down. He looked over my way as soon as I stepped into the room. "I was thinking we'd have a bite to eat before we went to the studio?"

"Sure, sounds great. Where were you thinking?" I walked over to my closet and started to rifle through it.

"I was actually thinking we'd order some room service." I looked back at him. He had this adorable smile on his face. It wasn't a 'let's get room service so we can be alone' smile, it was one that said 'let's get room service, because I have the feeling you'd be more comfortable with it.' I nodded before turning back to the closet and pulling out a light blue sundress. It was part of the handful of clothes that I had that weren't of the workout variety.

Quickly scooping up some undergarments, I ducked back into the bathroom and got changed. When I returned back the room, I hopped up onto the bed next to Eric, who was perusing the takeout menu. He slid the menu over closer to me, so we could read it together.

As soon as I grabbed the proffered side of the menu, Eric slid his now-free arm around me, pulling me closer to his body. I momentarily stiffened before relaxing into his embrace. If he could be okay with all of the external shit, and my shit too, and still want to be with me, then I could try to deal.

* * *

After a lunch of overpriced cheeseburgers and milkshakes, and five episodes of Buffy, Eric and I were on our way to the studio.

"God, I ate so many fries I don't think I'll be able to fit into my hustle dress."

"Your hustle dress? You mean you're actually gonna make me wear that leisure suit again?" he laughed.

I couldn't help but laugh with him. "Why? I thought you looked…groovy." I burst into another giggle fit. Eric turned to look at me as I pulled into a parking spot and shut the car off.

"You think you're funny?" he asked as we got out of my car. I was still laughing as I walked over to his side of the car. All I could do was nod. "You do, now?" I nodded again, and Eric made an attempt to grab me. I hopped back and then took off running.

I made it almost down the hall towards our practice room before Eric wrapped his arms around my waist and pinned me against the wall. Then, the tickling began.

"Stop, stop!" I pleaded, shrieking as Eric tickled my sides and up under my arms. He finally relented after a few more seconds, bringing his head to rest on my shoulder, his hands flattened against the wall over my head. I pushed against him a little bit, pausing to run my fingers through his hair. "Come on," I started, "up." He moved his head up, looked into my eyes, and the world seemed to slow down. I used the hand that I had threaded in his hair to bring him closer to me. Our lips were just about to make contact when we heard footsteps approaching.

"Oh, shit. Sorry, guys." It was Amelia. She was already dressed in her pink foxtrot dress. "It's just that Arlene was looking for you, and I was just on my way to parking lot to see if your cars were here. Shit. I'm leaving now." She backed up and went back down the hall.

"Shit, indeed," Eric muttered.

"Oh, now you just hush up and get back over here," I chastised. Eric's eyes snapped back to mine and he closed the gap he had created when Amelia had interrupted us. I pressed my lips softly to his; a quick kiss. "Now let's see what Arlene wants." I smiled and slid out from under him.

Two hours later, and Eric and I had both been fluffed and prodded into submission, with our hustle outfits back on. We did the elimination thing once again, this time losing JB and Tara. We said our goodbyes, and then Eric and I were standing outside our practice room. I still wasn't ready to go back in there with him.

"So, I'll see you tomorrow? Wait, that was stupid. Of course I'll see you tomorrow. So, see you tomorrow," I rambled.

"Wait, let me walk you to your car." I nodded and we walked out to the parking lot. We stood, lingering at my car for a good five minutes before anyone said anything. "So, tomorrow," Eric said.

"Tomorrow," I repeated. Then, Eric leaned in and brushed his lips against mine, the kiss sweet and reverent. I not-so-gracefully plopped down into the driver's seat, as the door had been opened by Eric. He closed it, ever the gentleman, and I somehow managed to drive out of the parking lot and back to my hotel without crashing.

As I clicked on the light, I noticed that Eric's button-down shirt from yesterday was draped over the back of the chair in the corner of the room. After I completed my nightly routine, I pulled on his shirt and crawled into bed, wondering where I was going to go from here.

* * *

**Wow, that was a long chapter. Lots of stuff going on. Sorry to cut elimination to like a sentence, but I really needed to wrap up this chapter so we could move on.**

**A picture of Sookie's hustle dress was tumblr-tweeted earlier this week, but it'll also be up on my profile.**

**Speaking of tumblr, you can find me at chiisaikitty . tumblr . com for updates regarding my stories, or at cupcakecameo . tumblr . com for information and media regarding my line of accessories and jewelry that's coming soon. And of course, remove the spaces. If you're not a copy-and-paster, those links will also be in my profile.**

**Thanks!**

**-Sydney**


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